


Wishful Thinking

by quizasvivamos



Series: Wishful Thinking [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Harry Potter References, Humor, M/M, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt receives an unusual gift for his birthday that leads him to befriend a mysterious boy named Blaine. They bond over a potentially dangerous secret, and Kurt finds that there may be more to the boy than he’s been letting on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: canon-typical violence/bullying, one instance of homophobic language
> 
> *I wrote this fic for the Kurt Hummel Big Bang Fall 2014 - my first time ever participating in something like this! I worked with frumiousme, and she created an amazing fanmix for this story. Riverance made some truly beautiful cover art for this fic, and it is also being used for the art for the fanmix. :)
> 
> Here's the link: http://8tracks.com/frumiousme/wishful-thinking-fanmix
> 
> I hope you enjoy the music, art, and, of course, the story! :D

The funny thing about growing older was that Kurt never really felt very different. Sure, he had grown an inch or two over the past year and lost some baby fat, but he still felt like the same Kurt, the Kurt who sang in the glee club and consistently begged his father to raise his allowance so that he could keep his wardrobe up to date. The same boy who had never grown out of his love for a certain book series about a famous boy wizard.  

He didn't think it was anything to be ashamed of, but it wasn’t something he needed to flaunt. The last thing he needed was yet another reason for bullies to target him at school.

So when he woke up bright and early on his sixteenth birthday, it felt like any other ordinary Saturday. That is, until his dad entered his room with an almost mischievous expression on his face, holding a small box behind his back.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he said gruffly. “Get up. I have a surprise for you, and I can’t wait much longer.”

Kurt couldn't help but smile, feeling the excitement radiating from his father. He quickly threw the covers off himself and scrambled out of bed.

Having a late May birthday definitely had its perks. There were only a few weeks of school remaining, the weather was generally nice, and Kurt always had the entire summer to revel in whatever milestone change, if any, he reached at his current new age. This year, after months of driving lessons with an instructor, Kurt was getting his license. It was kind of a big deal.

But he had no idea that he would be taking his driver’s test behind the wheel of...

“An Escalade? Oh my god, Dad! It’s - you’re - this is crazy! I love it!” Kurt blurted out, wrapping his arms around his father and squeezing him tightly. When he let go, he was still squirming in excitement.

“Hurry up and get yourself together. Your driver’s test’s at noon. I know you’re gonna want to show off your new baby and spend some time with your friends,” Burt said, tossing the keys to Kurt. He stood there staring at them in his palm in complete awe for a moment before closing his fingers over them and looking back up at the vehicle in the driveway. It was huge, and he couldn't believe his dad had bought him something so nice. He knew he had connections from owning the tire shop in the neighborhood, but he must have really had to pull some strings for this one.

Kurt realized he had been standing outside in his pajamas with sleep-tousled hair for all the neighborhood to see, so he quickly rushed back into the house to ready himself for the day. He hurried through his morning routine in his impatience and nervous excitement. Sixteen was a good age, a great new place to be in his life. The world was gradually opening up to him, and Kurt Hummel had no doubt that he would take it by storm.

He just needed to make sure he could parallel park the monster of a vehicle in between the cones without casualties. Then the world was his for the taking.

-s-

When Kurt returned home from the DMV, thin hunk of shiny new plastic with his face on it in hand, his ticket to freedom, there was a small package on the doorstep. Burt leaned down and picked it up, examining the shipping label, and then held it out toward Kurt.

“It’s from your aunt.” But Burt still seemed a bit baffled and scratched his head before handing it over. “Happy birthday, Kurt,” he said for the third time that day. Burt couldn't help it. His only son was growing up, and he was so proud of the man he was becoming. “I’m gonna make lunch. Go ahead and bring that inside. You can open it, eat, and then head over to pick up Rachel and Mercedes. Just be safe on the road, and be home before curfew. Today’s your day.”

He carried the package into the house, following behind his dad, and then sat down at the table. As he held it in his hands, Kurt noticed that the box was long, thin, and relatively light. Kurt couldn't imagine what it could be and refrained from shaking it, knowing that that never told a person much of anything about mystery contents of a box - unless it happened to be a puzzle, of course. Considering the shape and weight and the sheer fact that that would be a terrible gift, Kurt was certain it wasn’t a puzzle, and he carefully tore open the overwrap, lifting the flap of the box inside.

When he saw the Warner Brothers logo, a grin stretched wide across his face as he quickly removed all the packaging to reveal a Harry Potter wand prop replica.

“This is so cool,” he said, wrapping his fingers around the handle and lifting it out of its casing into the air before him. He couldn't remember telling anyone that he had wanted one, secretly wishing and praying that he could somehow find the money to fly to Orlando and spend a day or two in Wizarding World where he would secure one, but he figured that he hadn’t needed to say anything. He was sure most of his family knew of his obsession, having caught him at many a family function with one of the books or sneaking away to read in his room.

Burt looked over and laughed. “That’s pretty neat. Just like the movie, eh?”

“Yeah. I’m going to go put it away in my room for now. I’ll be right back.” And Kurt set the toy back into the box, closed it, rose from his seat at the table, hurried down the stairs to his basement bedroom, and placed it on his bed. He would come back to it later and figure out where he would keep it, maybe rig up a wall display of some sort.

After a quick, light lunch, Kurt grabbed the keys to his new baby which he hadn’t let out of his sight since he got it, and climbed into the vehicle on his way to show it off. The girls were going to be extremely jealous, but he was sure that they’d like the idea of him chauffeuring them around when they wanted to go to the mall or possibly even carpool to school.

In a few short minutes, Kurt navigated the neighborhood, and then Rachel and Mercedes were in the car, babbling incessantly about how insane his dad must be.

“I guess this is your sweet sixteen, then,” Rachel said. “You absolutely refused a party, so your dad made up for it with this. My dads would never buy me such a lavish gift.” She proceeded to mess around with buttons and knobs on the dashboard and then ran her fingers over the window switch on the door.

“This ride _is_ pretty fabulous, Kurt,” Mercedes said, leaning forward between the two front seats.

“I know,” he admitted. “I’m kinda scared to take it too many places. Speaking of, where did you guys want to go? I was thinking...is the Lima Bean okay for you two?”

“Of course,” Rachel said, answering for both of them. “I bet you’ll feel all grown up driving your new car and drinking coffee.”

“I've always wanted to see what all the hype was about since all the upperclassmen hang out there,” Mercedes said, looking at Kurt through the rearview mirror from the back seat. “They must have some really good cheesecake or something.”

“Which would be _perfect_ for celebrating Kurt’s birthday!” Rachel said, beaming and clasping her hands together.

Kurt switched his blinker on as they approached the entrance to the parking lot outside the building. “You know me so well, Rachel Berry. And I hope you’re right, Mercedes, because I could definitely go for a slice.”

They pulled into the parking lot, and Kurt was careful to park away from other cars because he didn't fully trust himself or others yet. He set the gearshift in park and killed the engine before the three of them hopped out and made their way into the small coffee shop.

When they entered and looked around, they saw that the shop wasn’t very busy, but there were still a few kids here and there, sipping drinks or just sitting around the tables deep in conversation or goofing around or flirting and throwing crumpled up straw wrappers at each other.

The short line leading to the register soon tapered off, and when it was their turn, they stepped up to the counter to order. Kurt looked up at the menu on the wall and was unsure of what to get, having never really ordered from a place like this before. This was the first time he was aware that there were so many different types of coffee drinks and not just the stuff his father brewed and left in the pot every morning.

“Can I help you?” the barista asked, and Kurt turned his gaze forward. She had a kind face and wasn’t trying to be pushy, but Kurt felt bad that he was holding up the line that began to form behind him.

“I, uh, I’ll have a -”

One of the baristas came over from the back and said something to the other, too quiet for Kurt to catch. “Oh! Are you Kurt? They just told me that someone already ordered something for you,” she said, shrugging her shoulders at the bemused expression on Kurt’s face that followed.

“Wha -? Huh? For -? Who?” Kurt spluttered.

“It was a nice gentleman who ordered earlier. Didn't leave a name, but asked for us to make a nonfat mocha for a boy named Kurt - said you’d have blue eyes, be well-dressed, and sporting a hippo head brooch.” She tapped the accessory displayed on the left breast of his vest with the pen in her hand. “Claimed it was your birthday.”

“It is,” Kurt said, utterly baffled. “I have no idea who could have done that.” He looked to Rachel and Mercedes for an answer. A wide-eyed Rachel shrugged, and Mercedes just frowned and shook her head. Could it have been his dad? But Kurt wondered how he would have known he was coming here and if he had mentioned wanting to recently.

“Wasn't us, Kurt. Besides, they said it was a guy,” Mercedes said.

“So?” the barista cut in. “What size do you want? It’s already been paid for.”

“I guess, wow, okay...” He squinted at the sizes on the menu board. “I guess I’ll take a grande then.”

“Happy birthday,” the one guy said as he handed Kurt his drink a few minutes later, and Kurt felt a blush rise all the way up his neck and into his cheeks and ears. It really was turning out to be an interesting and special birthday after all, if not also a tad eerie.

Once they had all claimed their drink orders, Rachel led them to a table by the front window, a spot she claimed was perfect for people watching. They slid the chairs out and took a seat.

“You seem to have a secret admirer, Kurt,” Rachel said, squirming excitedly in her seat.

“But I don’t know anyone in here,” Kurt replied, glancing around. He blew on his drink and then hesitantly took a sip. “Mm! Oh, my god. This is perfect,” he said, his eyes closing for a moment as the bittersweet, steaming beverage rolled over his tongue and down his throat.

“Well whoever ordered that drink must know something about you,” Mercedes said.

“It’s just really strange,” Kurt said, taking another sip. He set the cup down on the table. “It was probably my dad. It couldn't really be anyone else. I must have mentioned wanting to come here in passing. It was a very nice gesture though. I’ll have to thank him when I get home.”

His eyes scanned the assortment of people crowded around the tables in the small shop, allowing himself to entertain the fantasy of a secret admirer and ponder who his mystery guy could possibly be.

Then Kurt’s eyes locked on a dark-haired boy seated off in the corner who was speaking animatedly with two other boys. The boy would bow his head, almost bashful, every time his friends seemed to be telling a joke, and his body shook as he laughed softly. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off him, realizing certain things about him such as the way his thick, dark eyelashes fluttered, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled, the stately way he held himself as he sat there. He seemed so out of place in a drab small town like Lima.

If only he was his mystery coffee guy, Kurt thought. No, that was just wishful thinking, hoping that the first hot guy he noticed in the place just happened to be _his_ guy. Then he realized how ridiculous it was to entertain any of those thoughts. He had never seen the boy in his life, and, clearly, the coffee guy had to be someone who knew him and at the least knew his name.

Kurt turned back to Rachel and Mercedes, catching back up with their conversation, the topic of which had turned to glee club, a subject Rachel could talk about for extended periods of time.

As Kurt sat there silently listening, his mind wandering as he finished his coffee, he felt eyes on him, and he tried to inconspicuously glance around the room. When his eyes found the dark-haired boy from earlier, he was met this time with a pair of bright golden, smoldering eyes.

Kurt’s heart began to race, and he swallowed nervously, trying hard to look away. Then the boy smiled, shook his head, and turned back around toward his friends. Kurt blinked hard and snapped his head back toward the girls, a blush rising under his skin as he redirected his gaze to the tabletop. He must have been imagining it. There was no way that had actually happened, and Rachel and Mercedes were now in a heated discussion, too preoccupied to witness any of the exchange, albeit wordless, but filled with meaning.

No, he was being silly again. He shook his head and chuckled quietly at himself. Rachel looked up and glared at him, crossing her arms.

“What, Kurt? You think my idea is funny? I, for one, thought it was a brilliant song choice for Sectionals in the fall.”

“No, Rachel. I wasn’t laughing at you. It was nothing.” Kurt drained the last few drops of his coffee, shook it gently, and set the now empty cup back down with a sense of finality. He took in a deep breath and rose from his chair. “Are you two ready to get out of here?”

“Yes, _please_ ,” Mercedes answered, rolling her eyes and following his lead. They pushed in their chairs, hearing the wooden legs scrape across the floor, and made a trip to the trashcan to toss their cups.

“I’m not ready to go home yet, but we could hit up the mall. I think we are due for a shopping trip, and, besides, I need to do something with the money and gift cards I very recently acquired,” Kurt said.

“Oh! Yes! And you can pick out your birthday present while we’re there,” Rachel said. “My dads gave me the credit card.” She slid her arm into Kurt’s linking them. Kurt offered his other arm to Mercedes who gladly took it with a smile, and together they practically skipped out of the coffee shop like Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz crew down the Yellow Brick Road, laughing as they went. 


	2. Chapter 2

Trips to the Lima Bean after school soon became routine for Kurt, and he was fast becoming a regular. Often times, it was only him and Mercedes, but sometimes Rachel would take time out of her ever busy rehearsal and extracurricular schedule to join them. Kurt continued to order the grande nonfat mocha believing it was fate, and then he felt strangely mature when he realized he officially had a coffee order.

There was something else Kurt began to notice, something that he stealthily kept to himself. He held on to the hope that he would see the boy again, the one with the captivating eyes like fiery amber. And like clockwork, every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, there he was, over in the corner at his usual table, drinking his coffee with his friends.

Kurt was careful to limit his glances and tried not to be too conspicuous. The last thing he needed was for Rachel to catch on and make a scene. So he admired from afar.

Belly full of after-school coffee and pastry, Kurt laid supine on his bed, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Whenever he tried to concentrate on something, his mind would drift back to the boy at the Lima Bean. He couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse, but he felt foolish, knowing that he had undeniably developed a crush on a guy just because he looked his way. God, he felt like an idiot, but it was nice to have something silly to fantasize about. He created scenarios in his head about the boy and the coffee order, inventing dialogues and flirty interactions. If only Kurt had had the guts to get up and say hi. Except, even if he had, what would really be the chances that the boy wouldn’t be straight as an arrow and creeped out by Kurt even remotely thinking otherwise or making a big deal out of a single glance during which their eyes just happened to meet?

A heavy sigh filled the quiet room, and Kurt sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. On his dresser sat a pile of gifts he hadn’t yet properly sorted through or figured out a place for. Among the items was the box with the toy wand, and, with a small grin, Kurt rose from the bed to retrieve it.

He carefully took it out of the box again and then brought it back over to the bed. Images of The Boy Who Lived flashed through his mind, and Kurt waved the wand around, pretending he was Harry on one of his many adventures for a few moments. Kurt closed his eyes and whispered, “Lumos.”

He twirled around the room, stabbing and slashing at the air as if he were in a sword fight and the wand was a blade. Then he grabbed the fleece throw blanket off the end of the bed and draped it over his head and shoulders, and it became his invisibility cloak.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Kurt said, pointing the wand at a gum wrapper on the floor, laughing as he bent down to pick it up and toss it in the waste basket.  

Then he imagined himself in the arena with the dragon, in the middle of the Triwizard Tournament. What could he use to defeat it?

Then he was just Kurt again, standing in his room alone with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a toy wand made out of resin. Perhaps he was too old for this type of play, and he wondered: What did Kurt Hummel need? What could he use right now to not feel so lonely and pitiful?

Kurt tossed the blanket back onto the bed and plopped down on his belly, stretching across the short end of the mattress, his legs hanging off the one side and his arms off the other. He lazily waved the wand before allowing his arm to fall limply toward the floor.

“Accio guy friend,” Kurt said in jest. He felt like a bit of a jerk thinking about it. It’s not that he didn’t love Mercedes and Rachel, it was just that sometimes there was so much estrogen in one room that it was suffocating, and he wouldn’t mind having someone he could relate to in a different way. Most of the guys at his school didn’t even see him as one of the guys, and it hurt more than he’d like to admit.

He examined the wand in his hand, adjusting his grip on the handle. “Accio boyfriend. Yeah right.” Kurt closed his eyes, and an image of the Lima Bean boy rose behind his lids. All too clearly, he saw the dark hair, the smile, the laugh lines, the eyes...those eyes that bore into him and made him both terrified and infatuated. And then, without opening his eyes, he mumbled, “Accio hot guy.”

He laid there just breathing for a moment, thinking about how hard it was to get anyone to take him seriously about most things, especially his song choices in glee club and his fashion choices. No one really knew him like he wished they could, and he was sick of being hated by the general populace for being misunderstood.

Something crashed to the floor, and Kurt’s eyes shot open, his pulse quickening as he quickly rolled over and pulled himself up off the bed. He made to scan the room, but within seconds, he caught sight of something - someone - and his breath hitched. Kurt froze stock-still, the wand held out before him as if it might actually come in handy if he had to defend himself against the intruder.

What was he going to do? Jab it up the guy’s nose like Harry had done with the troll in book one?

Kurt thought he was hallucinating, going absolutely batshit out of his mind, because the someone standing before him, clearly terrified, was none other than the boy from the coffee shop.

“Wh - who are you?” Kurt said, his voice shaky. He took a step back. “How did you get in here?”

“I - I, uh,” he stammered. “My name’s Blaine, and I have no idea how I got here. I’m freaking out right now. Last thing I knew, I was listening to music and studying for my history final, and the next, I’m...here.” He glanced around, taking in the interior decor in attempt to register his surroundings.

“No. No way,” Kurt said breathlessly. “That’s impossible. This is completely implausible and just plain insane.”

“Are you some sorta wizard or something, living here in some fancy underground chamber? This is so bizarre. Wait a minute...you look familiar,” Blaine said, narrowing his eyes. “Have we met before...?

“No!” Kurt shouted, but then clapped his hand over his mouth. “I mean, no, we’ve never met. Blaine, is it? God, um...” Kurt lowered the wand now, feeling foolish, and set it carefully on the nightstand. He slid his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “I’m Kurt.”

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine repeated, hesitating briefly as if committing the name to memory. “Now that we’ve found ourselves in this absurd and completely inconceivable situation, what do you suppose we do? Can you at least figure out how I got here? Which is -?”

“My house, and I - I don’t know.” Kurt began to pace, his mind reeling as he desperately tried to wrap his head around his current predicament. He had waved the wand, the toy wand, and had summoned a person. It didn’t make any sense. It was fake, just a toy...magic didn’t really exist.

But then what on earth was happening right now? How could the boy of his fantasies be standing before him in the middle of his bedroom asking him what he wanted to do? When that particular fact completely registered, Kurt felt his blood rise in his face.

And then he wondered. Kurt slowly retrieved the wand from the nightstand, and Blaine eyed him curiously, his eyes flicking from Kurt to the wand and back to Kurt again.

“Is that -?” Blaine began, raising his hand to point.

“Yeah,” Kurt breathed. “I thought it was just a toy, but now...I think...I think it’s real.”


	3. Chapter 3

“There’s no way...” Blaine began, laughing uneasily. “I refuse to believe that. Witchcraft is purely fiction.”

“Believe what you want, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense at all.” Kurt was mesmerized by the wand in his hand again, and he could have sworn he felt it heat up against his palm and fingers. “I was just sitting here playing with it, just messing around with spells from the books, and...poof! Here you are.” Kurt looked up at Blaine again and swallowed hard before clearing his throat.

“Where did it come from?”

“It was a birthday present from my Aunt Mildred,” Kurt explained. “It arrived in the mail just like most of my other gifts. I didn’t have a party, so everyone just sent me stuff.” He shrugged.

“But, how -? I mean, why me?”

“I, uh...” Kurt grew hot and blushed deep crimson this time, and he felt himself begin to perspire. The truth would have to come out, but Kurt was extremely embarrassed. How could he tell Blaine what he had been doing, what he had been thinking and feeling? Would it freak him out even more? “I was using the summoning charm...” Kurt grew very quiet. “And I...”

“You summoned me? But you don’t even know me...unless - are you sure we’ve never met before?” Blaine asked with a skeptical look.

“I saw you a few times,” Kurt admitted. “I’ve been going to the Lima Bean with my friends after school, and I noticed you on occasion there with your friends.”

“I knew it!” Blaine was quiet for a while, making Kurt nervous, but much to Kurt’s surprise, he looked back at him, and his expression softened. “Yeah...I remember you now. But, we’ve never even spoken.”

“I know. I guess all I needed was a clear image of you and a description...”

“What do you mean?” Blaine said. “This is just getting weirder and weirder,” he muttered to himself, gently shaking his head.

“I said ‘accio hot guy’,” Kurt deadpanned.

“Oh.” Blaine stood there looking stiff and uncomfortable for a moment, and then it was his turn to blush. “I see.” And then he looked down at his shoes and smiled shyly.

Kurt began to laugh nervously, not yet sure of the consequences of his confession. Then he held his breath, awaiting something, anything from Blaine.

“So...” Blaine began, looking back up. He scanned the room. “If that thing actually works, you don’t think...could we try to use it again?”

“Oh! Yeah, I guess. But, for what? How?”

“I’ve been studying for the past few hours, and I’m kinda getting hungry,” Blaine said.

“How about I order a pizza?” Kurt suggested. Blaine raised his eyebrows at Kurt and his eyes shifted toward the wand again. “With this? You want me to summon a pizza with the wand?” Kurt began to laugh but soon grew quiet when he realized Blaine was serious.

“Can you at least try it?”

“Yeah. I guess there’s no harm in trying. If it doesn’t work, we can just have a laugh about it and call it a day, I suppose.” Then Kurt lifted the wand up again, closed his eyes, and really focused on the object of Blaine’s desires. He imagined the dough, the sauce, the gooey, melted cheese...and then he realized he was hungry, too. ”Accio pizza,” Kurt said, doing his best not to giggle his way through it, lest he make a mistake similar to Harry’s mush mouth floo powder incident.

He opened his eyes and looked over at Blaine who was still watching him, waiting.

“Nothing?” Kurt finally said.

“I don’t see anything,” Blaine said.

“Where do you think it would be if it had worked?” Kurt asked. “No, forget it. This is silly.” He shook his head and sank down on the bed.

Blaine looked around the room again, craning his neck, and then sniffed at the air. Kurt quirked an eyebrow, but then Blaine froze, and a grin stretched across his face. “Do you smell that?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Pizza!” Blaine said. “I swear I smell pizza.” He pointed toward the ceiling.

“No...you think it actually worked and it’s upstairs?” Kurt was finding it incredibly difficult to believe, but then he too caught a whiff of something familiar, warm and savory, bread and cheese...

They stared at each other, and then Kurt started toward the stairs, Blaine following close behind. Picking up his pace, Kurt dashed to the kitchen and then skidded to a halt when he reached the doorway and laid eyes on a box sitting in the center of the dining table. It didn’t have any indicative markings on it of where it came from, just a picture of a pizza on the top of the generic white cardboard box. And it smelled positively delicious. His mouth watered as he approached the table and inhaled deeply. Then Kurt set the wand on the table, reached out, pausing only for a moment, and then lifted the top flap of the box.

“Wow,” Blaine said. “Can I...?”

“Of course,” Kurt said. And they both reached in, grabbed a slice, and began shamelessly stuffing their faces. It was just the right temperature for consumption and had the perfect amount of seasoning in the sauce.

Feeling a little greasy and after noticing a spot of sauce by Blaine’s mouth, Kurt grabbed some paper towels and handed one to Blaine who dabbed at the sauce on his face.

Blaine continued to chew, but couldn’t wait to say the next thing on his mind. “You know what this means, right?” he half mumbled through the food in his mouth. His hand shot up to cover his mouth. “Sorry,” he apologized, swallowing.

Kurt knew exactly what this meant, and it both amazed and terrified him. He rapidly chewed and swallowed what was still in his mouth and nodded. “I own something very valuable.”

“You can definitely say that.” Then Blaine’s eyes lit up. “We can’t tell anyone about this. We need to keep this a secret,” he said, almost frantic.  

“I wasn’t planning to tell anyone. Who would believe me anyway? I still hardly believe it, and I now have two forms of proof sitting and standing right in front of me.”

“It’s gotta be real, or we’re both completely crazy,” Blaine said, laughing.

The next few minutes passed in silence as they finished their slices. Kurt closed the box on the remainder of the pie and washed his hands before turning to Blaine again.

“So, this is our secret, then?” Kurt asked, leaning up against the counter. “How do I know I can trust you with it? I don’t even know you.”

“I’m Blaine Anderson, I live in Westerville, go to Dalton Academy, and it’s recently been brought to my attention that I’m hot,” he said, smirking and waggling his eyebrows. Kurt groaned in response and tried to hide his face. “Now you know me. Who are _you_ , mysterious boy who disrupted my studies and brought me here? I forgive you though, because of the pizza and all.”

Kurt laughed at that. “Kurt Hummel. I go to the super classy establishment called McKinley High School, I live here in Lima, and I’m so, so sorry about all of this.”

“No need to apologize. I have to admit that, once I got past the initial shock, this is actually really cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” Kurt stood there in awe for a moment. “You go to Dalton?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“What’s that like? Isn’t it a private school?”

“It’s nice,” Blaine answered. “It’s an all-boys school, I feel really safe there, and I have some good friends. You probably saw me with Wes and David. We, uh, go out for coffee quite often.”

“That does sound nice,” Kurt said distractedly, recalling the uniform he’d seen them wearing, and it began to click. He didn’t know much about Dalton, but the word ‘safe’ struck a chord with him, and he began to feel a bit envious. Safety _and_ good guy friends. He wrapped his arms around himself.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked, noticing the shift in his demeanor.

“Yes, I mean, not really, but it’s not really important.”

“If it’s something that’s bothering you, then it’s important.”

Kurt looked at Blaine, taken aback by his words. Now he was wondering how it was possible that someone like Blaine even existed, someone who showed concern for a person he’d just met. “It’s just - I get picked on at my school. It’s really hard to feel safe there - between being thrown into lockers and forcibly prone to dumpster diving.”

“I’m sorry... I know how hard that is,” Blaine said. “I used to get taunted too.” He shuddered from a particularly painful memory.

“You did? Why would someone bully _you_?”

“Because I’m gay, Kurt.”

Caught completely off guard by Blaine’s candor, Kurt just blinked at him. Blaine’s confession seemed so practiced, like he had already had to explain himself a million times. And it seemed almost too easy to Kurt who, despite being called ugly and assuming names at school, had yet to come out to anyone besides his two best friends and had been struggling with himself for a few years now.

“I was the only out kid at my old school and would get called horrible names on a daily basis. Some jerks beat me up really bad one day, and then I transferred to Dalton to get away from it all,” Blaine explained, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. Then he relaxed. “They have a zero tolerance policy.”

Kurt tilted his head to the side, seeing the pain that was evident in Blaine’s eyes. “That’s awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“It’s okay, Kurt. I’m okay now, and it probably seems like I have it all, what with going to a private school and all. I understand your judgment, and I won’t hold it against you.”

“Thanks, but I’m just as guilty as the rest if I jump to conclusions about you. I’m really sorry.”

“No harm done. But, hey, now that we have this _magical_ secret, and I could always use a friend, what do you say?” Blaine gazed imploringly into Kurt’s eyes.

“Friend, I could use a friend,” Kurt echoed absentmindedly. “Yes, I’d like that. I’m going to need to keep an eye on you anyway, since the wand is top secret and could be dangerous if people found out about it,” he said, partially in jest, but he also recognized the truth in his words.

“I agree,” Blaine said. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Kurt, even if it did happen under the strangest circumstances, but unfortunately I need to leave now. I still have that exam next week, and people might start to worry about me.” Blaine pointed to Kurt’s pocket, and Kurt looked down, confused. “Here. Give me your phone.”

Kurt slid it out of his pocket and placed it in Blaine’s outstretched hand. He watched as Blaine typed something into it and then handed it back with a smile. “I’ll be in touch,” Blaine said. He turned around and headed out of the kitchen, making his way through the house toward the front door. Kurt followed after him to let him out, but when he had his hand on the doorknob, Kurt had a sudden realization.

“Wait. Do you know your way home from here? Didn’t you say you live in Westerville? Isn’t that -”

“Yeah. Trust me, I’ll be fine,” Blaine assured him, cutting him off. He placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and then let it fall back to his side. Then he smiled again, a smile that Kurt was certain could cure cancer and made his heart skip a beat. “I’ll see you later.”

Blaine opened the door, and Kurt watched him take off at a swift pace down the sidewalk. He kept an eye on him until he had turned a corner and was no longer in sight.

“Shit,” Kurt swore to himself after coming out of a trance of sorts, feeling like an idiot and a complete jerk. “I should have offered him a ride home.” But he figured that Blaine was well on his way by now, and even if he did try to track him down, the chances of finding him were slim.

He stood there in contemplation for a moment, feeling the new weight of the magic he now possessed and the responsibility to keep it a secret. Telling Rachel or Mercedes was completely out of the question. It just wasn’t a good idea, especially since Rachel has been known to blab. And he didn’t want either of them to think any less of him. But he had Blaine.

He pulled his contacts up on his phone, but as he scrolled through, Blaine’s name was nowhere to be seen. What had he been doing with Kurt’s phone then? Kurt’s heart sank into his stomach, and, grimacing, he tossed the phone onto the end table by the couch. Blaine _had_ said he would see him later though, and, perhaps he had gotten Kurt’s number off his phone somehow. He decided to hang onto the hope that Blaine would contact him.

Kurt returned to the kitchen, stored the remainder of the pizza in the fridge, and then plodded back down the stairs to his room. If this was how things were going to be from now on, then Kurt thought he could definitely be okay with it. His chest rose and fell with his breaths, excitement bubbled up inside him before pulsing through and spreading to every inch of his body, and his stomach felt funny but not unpleasantly so.

He once again fell backward onto his bed and sighed, crossing his hands over his stomach.

Kurt hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he heard the front door open and close and then someone trudging heavily through the house. He pulled himself up into a sitting position.

“Hey, Kurt,” he heard his dad call down the stairs before his feet began to fall on them, each step creaking as he went. He peeked his head around the corner. “Good thinking with the pizza. Work was exhausting, and I wasn’t in the mood to cook tonight anyway. So, thanks.”

“No problem, Dad. Really.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt kept his phone nearby throughout the following week, often staring at the dark, blank screen, praying it would light up and ring or buzz with an incoming call. While he was in classes, he kept the phone in his pocket. When he was studying, he kept it beside his book on his desk or the kitchen table, stealing a glance every few seconds, and even when he was eating or watching television with his dad, Kurt had his phone out despite the curious looks Burt would send his way.

Kurt Hummel was obsessed.

And then during glee club, his phone finally buzzed with a text message.

Mercedes leaned over in her seat from the row of chairs behind Kurt and peered over his shoulder, squinting to try to make out what was on Kurt’s screen. Something was making him smile so hugely, a smile that made him slightly resemble a large gassy infant, and she needed to find out what it was that was causing this unusual behavior. She tapped Kurt on the shoulder, and he jumped in his seat, whipping his head around and stashing his phone as if he’d just been caught looking at porn.

“Why do you have that big dopey grin on your face?” Mercedes asked.

“It’s nothing,” Kurt said, unable to conceal his blush or wipe the smile from his face in order to make his lie convincing. It wasn’t.

“Uh uh, Kurt. You’re not fooling me. Spill it. Did Lady Gaga add an impromptu Ohio stop to her tour? Or is it...is it a _boy_?”

Kurt quickly raised a finger to his lips and shushed Mercedes. “Keep it down, Mercedes. I don’t need to attract more attention to myself than I already do, and, no, I was serious. It’s nothing. End of story.”

“Fine.” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Someone’s got his panties in a bunch today,” she mumbled to herself. She watched as Kurt slid his phone back out and proceeded to type out a text, but, try as she might, Mercedes couldn’t make out who the recipient was. She huffed, rolled her eyes, and then turned her attention to Santana who was now popping her gum by her ear.

Kurt’s heart was thumping hard and quick in his chest, his hands shaking as he held the phone with the message from Blaine up on the screen, still unable to find the words to respond.

**_Lima Bean today after school?_ **

Kurt had deleted and retyped his response at least a dozen times before finally hitting send.

_yes_

That was dumb. ‘Yes’ what? Kurt thought his one-word response made him sound like an imbecile - or maybe just lazy -, but his brain had refused to function to come up with anything better. Meeting up didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t a date. Blaine just wanted to meet as friends, and they just so happened to have something very important to discuss: the wand.

“Kurt, phone away. Santana, spit out the gum, and, Brittany,” Mr. Schuester paused for a moment, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open, seemingly speechless. “What are you wearing on your head?”

Every single member of the glee club turned almost in sync to see the blonde sitting up in the back right corner of the room, donning what appeared to be some kind of metal helmet. Kurt thought she’d taken a roll of aluminum foil and wrapped it around her head, a bold fashion statement not even he could get behind - not even a little bit.

“It’s my Impervibabble. I woke from a dream and knew the aliens were coming back for me. As long as I’m wearing this, they can’t trap me with their words or beam me up,” she deadpanned.

“Wanky,” Santana said.

“‘Impervi’ as in impervious or impenetrable, not like your nasty thoughts,” Artie muttered in Santana’s direction. She raised her eyebrows, opening her mouth to undoubtedly make a comment about Artie’s choice of synonym, but he gave her a warning glare and said, “No.” She closed her mouth and sat there grinning slyly.

The entire room turned back toward the front, also in near unison, and uttered not a single word more about it.

Kurt was distracted throughout glee club practice. He was rebuked by Mr. Schuester when he missed a few steps of the choreography and made the group have to start over and redo the entire number. Needless to say, Kurt became the recipient of most members’ scorn that day, and Rachel wasn’t pleased with him. It felt like a jailbreak once they were dismissed, and Kurt promptly took off, leaving his 80s-rock-obsessed oppressors behind.

His feet could not have carried him faster as he dashed to his car in the parking lot, hopped in, and turned the key in the ignition, nearly forgetting to fasten his seatbelt in his haste. Kurt tried his best to not speed, and when he pulled into the parking lot of the Lima Bean, he parked the Escalade and climbed out nearly as quickly as he had entered it.

It took only seconds before his eyes met Blaine’s, who was seated at his usual table, but this time his private school friends were nowhere in sight. He was alone, Kurt noted. They were going to be alone. His heart began to race as he made his way with long strides across the coffee shop, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from Blaine. His cool confidence, fueled by his initial excitement, quickly faded once he was face to face with Blaine. That’s when his palms began to sweat.

“Hey,” Blaine said in slightly awkward greeting, but warmly nonetheless.

“Hey,” Kurt echoed back. “So...wanna get coffee?”

“Yeah, we should,” Blaine said, and Kurt was relieved to know they’d have something to occupy themselves with.

Kurt ordered his usual, which nearly all the baristas had memorized by now, and Blaine ordered a medium drip - of which Kurt took particular notice - before they reclaimed their seats.

“Are we going to talk about the magical elephant in the room or -?” Blaine finally spoke. “Well, I hope it’s not really in _this_ room.” He leaned in. “Where are you keeping it?”

“It’s safe. It’s in my bedroom,” Kurt informed him. “We should probably come up with some code words if we’re going to talk about it in public.”

Blaine looked around as if he was searching the place for an idea. “We can just call it coffee.”

“I suppose no one would find it suspect if we discuss coffee in a coffee house, huh,” Kurt said.

“Exactly. So, uh, we should meet for coffee at least once a week,” Blaine said with a wink. “Because I’ve been thinking about how good it could be. I think coffee has the potential to be a lot of fun.”

“Coffee has the potential to be a lot of things, but I’m not sure I understand your intentions,” Kurt said. “And are you talking about actual coffee right now or...? This is confusing.”

But Blaine continued on, ignoring Kurt’s question. “What we know so far is that it can give you things you really want, right? What if we use it for little things, like food or gas for your car or maybe even movie tickets...?” Blaine offered with a shrug.

Kurt sipped his drink as he considered it. “That sounds feasible.”

“I was just throwing a few things out there. It does belong to you, after all. What is it that you really want, Kurt?”

The question struck Kurt and gave him pause, but he really didn’t have an answer, not one that he could tell Blaine, nothing that he would really understand. He thought about his mother, and he thought about his struggles at school and in glee club. “I don’t know. Some things that aren’t really material things that I don’t think the wan- I mean, _coffee_ could give me.”

“You could always give it a try,” Blaine said.

“I think I’ll stick to movie tickets and candy or something,” Kurt said.

Blaine’s eyes lit up. “Do you realize we’ve bonded over this, Kurt? We’ll be like partners in crime.”

“But we’re not really going to be committing crimes, right? Because I draw the line,” Kurt said.

“Of course not. It was a figure of speech.”

“Good, you had me worried for a second.” He let out an uneasy laugh.

“What do you take me for?” Blaine tilted his head to the side and grinned.

“You said yourself that I can’t judge you by the polished private school uniform and the pearly smile and neatly gelled hair. For all I know, you have a secret identity and aren’t who you say you are,” Kurt joked, narrowing his eyes playfully at Blaine.

Blaine was quiet for a moment, lifting his cup to take a few sips of his coffee. “Well, you have plenty of time to get to know me.”

“I suppose I do,” Kurt agreed.

“So, coffee same time next week?”

Kurt nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Blaine beamed. “Good.” 

-s-

Kurt felt like a ninja every time he would slip out after school or glee club or right after lunch on weekends with his dad to go to the Lima Bean. He’d been meeting up with Blaine several times a week now, and it was becoming a hassle to remain incognito when his friends were nosey and observant and knew he wasn’t exhibiting normal behavior. It didn’t help that he’d shown up to school with new accessories and shoes much more often than usual, and he was even sporting a new Nintendo 3DS one day, which Puck eyed enviously.

One Friday afternoon, Mercedes cornered Kurt at his locker and invited him over for facials and a movie. He had been blowing her off so often lately that he knew he couldn’t turn her down this time. But halfway through _Hairspray_ and their second bowl of popcorn, Kurt received a text from Blaine.

  ** _are you busy? are we still meeting up?_**

 _Shit_ , Kurt thought. He had almost forgotten his plans with Blaine, but it was still early enough to make something up and leave Mercedes’s house before dinner time.

“Mercedes? Is it alright if we postpone this? My stomach is starting to bother me,” Kurt said. He even grabbed it and let out a low groan for good measure.

“Oh, it is? Are you sure?” She crossed her arms across her chest.

“I must have had some bad cafeteria food today,” he continued the lie, though he was sure it wasn’t convincing.

“We ate the same thing, _Kurt_ , and you know where the bathroom is.”

“I really just need to go. I’m sorry.” Kurt climbed off the couch and began to make his way toward the door.

Mercedes jumped up from the couch in a huff. “Hold the phone. You’re not going anywhere. I know you’re faking it.”

Kurt froze and turned back around, taking in a very intimidating and very pissed off Mercedes.

His shoulders slumped in resignation. “Okay, I’m not sick,” he admitted.

“Then where are you going? Who texted you?”

“I’m going for coffee,” Kurt responded.

“It’s Friday night. You think I’m dumb? And you’ve already had coffee today.”

“Well, I need more.”

“Either you’re full of shit and trying to pull one over on me, or you have an addiction, boy, and are in serious need of an intervention.” Mercedes grabbed Kurt’s arm and pulled him back over toward the couch. “Sit.”

Kurt groaned in frustration as he acquiesced. “Okay, fine. Since you won’t leave me alone about it.” Kurt took a deep breath, his body collapsing in on itself, and mumbled, “It’s a boy -”

“I knew it!” she said, jabbing the air with her finger. “You are transparent, Kurt Hummel. I don’t know what you were thinking believing you could keep something like this from me. That explains a lot, actually.” She gave him a pressing look as if to say “so?”

“His name is Blaine, and we’ve been meeting up for coffee quite frequently,” Kurt said.

Mercedes raised her eyebrows. “So that’s why you’ve been ditching me all the time.”

“Listen, ‘Cedes. I want to keep it on the down low, so can you please not tell anyone about this? Blaine and I are just really good friends, though, so it’s not what you think.”

“But you like him,” she said with a knowing grin.

“Yeah...and he’s gay, but we’re not together,” Kurt said. “I don’t think he’s interested.”

“I wouldn’t rule it out, Kurt. You’re not my best friend for no reason. He’s probably into you but is either too shy or too stupid to realize it yet.”

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better about the situation, but he doesn’t seem like the shy type - or stupid.”

“Tell me more about him.”

“He goes to a private school - Dalton Academy - and he doesn’t live around here,” Kurt explained.

“Well, duh, or I would have heard of him. How did you meet him then?”

There it was, the question Kurt had been dreading, and he desperately racked his brain for an answer before he fell upon the most obvious: “The Lima Bean.”

“So you’re both coffee addicts. Figures,” she said.

“Yeah,” Kurt said with a laugh. “Yeah, I guess we do really like coffee. He’s really kind though, and we’re into a lot of the same things.”

“He’ll get his shit together eventually, you’ll see. Maybe you should make the first move,” she said, gently prodding him in the chest.

Kurt jumped. “What? I can’t just - what do you think I should do?”

“You guys practically go on coffee dates multiple times a week - even a day - which is ridiculous, so why don’t you invite him over for a movie and a cuddle?”

He felt a blush rising to his face at the thought. “If you really think that’ll work, then I just might.”

“Hell to the yes. Choose a classic romcom or something super cheesy romantic, and you might find it works magic,” Mercedes said. “You said you two have a lot in common, right? Lord knows you’d be a sucker for all that.”

“Alright. I guess you have a point.”

“Operation seduce Blaine is a go then?”

“I’m not seducing him, Mercedes, but, yes. I’m going to text him right now and see if he’ll meet me at my house.”

She leaned over, pulling him up from the couch, and wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him. “You make me so proud, Kurt.”

“You’re crazy. I’m going to leave now, and don’t you try to stop me,” he said by her ear.

Mercedes let go and threw her arms up, letting her palms fall heavily on her thighs. “I wouldn’t dream of it, loverboy. Have fun!” She beamed broadly and waved her fingers at him.

“Bye,” Kurt said, less than enthusiastically. He rolled his eyes, made his way to the door, and let himself out. 

-s-

The knock on the door set Kurt’s heart fluttering like a startled bird in his ribcage. He hadn’t been this nervous around Blaine in a long time, and he had Mercedes to blame for that. He’d gotten so good at hiding his feelings from Blaine and suppressing the urge to spout out all the crazy things his love-stricken mind came up with on a daily basis, but all it took was a suggestion from Mercedes to instill in him a new hope and bring everything back up to a point where Kurt didn’t think he couldn’t contain it much longer.

And now he had it in his head that tonight would be an opportune and completely appropriate time to act on those fancies. A declaration of love would certainly not make their friendship awkward, Kurt thought, laughing bitterly to himself.

“I’m so glad you could make it on such short notice,” he said after letting Blaine in.  

“Well, you know, I wasn’t really doing much of anything, and we were going to meet up anyway,” Blaine said.

“Good point. I was hoping you wouldn’t find this arrangement too odd,” Kurt said.

“What’s odd about it? I’ve been to your house before,” Blaine said, a curious smile tugging at his lips.

“I know, but not like this,” he said, though he realized that this was probably the least unusual of all their meetups. Kurt turned and made his way toward the living room, Blaine following in his steps. He finally spun around to face Blaine again when he was standing directly in front of the television. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Blaine smiled, and his eyes seemed to light up. “Sure.”

“Let’s see, I have a few here...” Kurt kneeled down to dig through the DVDs in the television cabinet. “Mamma Mia, My Fair Lady, The Notebook,” Kurt read off as he ran his finger across the spines of the cases. “Juno - hmm.” He shook his head, then he stopped when he came across a potential winner. “...Moulin Rouge?”

“I love Moulin Rouge! Nicole Kidman is a goddess,” Blaine gushed.

“I know!” Kurt blurted out, rubbing his hands together. He pulled the movie out and popped the disc into the player. That had gone way smoother than he’d expected, and he took a deep breath before flopping down onto the couch next to Blaine.

“This movie breaks my heart every time,” Blaine said, and Kurt turned his head to look at him, only his profile visible. He traced the planes and edges of Blaine’s face with his eyes, and then quickly looked away as the opening song and scene began to play, slow and haunting as ever.

_“The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return...”_

Kurt had been so immersed in the movie, so hypnotized by the dancing and the music and the camp-meets-bohemian visuals, that he’d almost forgotten Blaine was beside him and his initial intentions for this movie night. During a relatively calm part of the film, Kurt swallowed hard, trying to think of how to initiate something. He felt awkward and unsure, and instead sat paralyzed, staring at the screen. He couldn’t do it.

But he had to do something, to say something. He had to let Blaine know how he felt.

_"Never knew I could feel like this...”_

Kurt was already teary-eyed, his heart aching for the ill-fated courtesan and the poor, unsuspecting poet. He shifted in the seat, trying to cover up a sniffle, and looked on at Blaine.

“Blaine?” he said quietly.

Blaine turned his head, his eyes widening when they met Kurt’s, solemn and shining with unshed tears. “What’s wrong?”

He tried to gather his nerve. “Nothing, I - I just -”

The front door swung open, and a startled Kurt jerked his head toward the sound.

The moment was gone.

Burt kicked his boots off by the door and removed his baseball cap. “Hey, Kurt,” he called over. Burt entered the living room and jumped a little when he saw Blaine. “Oh, you have company. Hey there, Blaine.”

“Hello, Mr. Hummel,” he responded, polite and formal as always.

Burt slowly sank into his armchair, setting his hat in his lap, and leaned back, his hands behind his head. “What are you guys watching?”

“Moulin Rouge,” Kurt answered.

“Oh.”

Much to Kurt’s dismay and slight annoyance, his dad sat and watched the next few scenes of the movie, his brow furrowed and face screwed up in concentration. Then he sighed and rose from the chair. “I’m gonna head to bed. I never understood this movie anyway,” he said. “And why are all the songs from somewhere else?”

Kurt didn’t bother answering, grateful that his father made a timely exit, his feet falling heavily on the steps as he made his way to his bedroom. Kurt sighed when he heard the door of his room shut.

When the credits began to roll, Kurt stretched and resignedly lifted himself off the couch. He’d lost his nerve and completely failed, and, now that the movie was over and it was late, he felt exhausted on top of downhearted.

Kurt switched off the television, and the room was engulfed in darkness. He stood there blinking as his eyes adjusted.

“He’s asleep,” Blaine said.

“Pardon?”

“Your dad, he’s asleep now. We could go use the wand.”

“You play well-behaved private school gentleman well, but you are far from innocent,” Kurt said.

“A little mischief is fun - it makes life interesting. And a little here and there is good for you.”

Kurt could make out his grin in the dark now, and he bit his lip, looking away. “Alright, let’s go.”

Down in the basement bedroom, Blaine watched from the bed as Kurt retrieved the wand from its hiding place underneath it.

“I believe the last time we talked, you had your eye on that vintage necklace, rumored to have belonged to the fabulous Jackie O,” Blaine said.

“Oh, god, it would be _so_ exciting to win that eBay auction. Imagine if I could say I owned a piece that spectacular...” Kurt sat there in a daze for a moment, and then grabbed and lifted open his laptop, clicking on the tab he’d kept open as he watched the item. There were only three hours remaining.

“Try it,” Blaine said.

“Oh, no, _no_. As tempting as it is, it’s _very_ expensive, and I have to draw the line somewhere. I mean, is this even ethical, what we’ve been doing with the wand? I can’t even be sure where the things I summon are coming from.”

“It’s fine, Kurt. Trust me.”

“I want to trust you, but -”

“It’s not harming anyone,” Blaine said, leaning toward him and the computer. He pointed to the screen. “Look. There are only two other bidders. Think of it this way: they’ll be disappointed, but you’ll save them from blowing all their money on something they probably don’t need. Besides, people with that kind of money will just shrug it off and go after something else.”

Kurt was torn, but he really wanted it, and time was running out. He sighed. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

He reached for the wand and picked it up, resting it in his lap. Kurt sat there, closed his eyes, and concentrated on the object. This was an unusual situation, not like other times when he would just wish for something and summon it; this was altering something major. Then he said quietly, firmly, “Accio necklace.”

Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes and looked around.

“I don’t think it worked,” Kurt finally said. He was a little disappointed but admittedly relieved.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, and then he lifted his finger to point at the screen again. The timer had frozen. They stared at it in silence. “Maybe we need to wait.”

“Nah, I think I’m done,” Kurt said.

Then he heard something rattle in his dresser, and he rose slowly to investigate it. He pulled the drawer open to reveal the exact item from the auction, and his mouth hung open. “It did work.”

He examined it with caution, running his fingers carefully over the pearls, and then he closed the drawer again, leaving it safe inside.

Blaine was uncharacteristically quiet after the eBay incident, and he sat there on Kurt’s bed, his feet dangling and eyes focused on nothing in particular.

“Are you alright?” Kurt asked after settling back down on the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired,” Blaine said, and then almost to prove his point, his mouth and jaw stretched wide with a yawn.

Kurt closed his laptop and set it aside on the floor. “You can stay over if you want.”

A half hour and an unfinished game of Apples to Apples later, Blaine was sound asleep, sprawled across the right side of Kurt’s bed. Kurt scooped up the cards, stacking and placing them back in the box, all the while stealing glances at Blaine as his chest gently rose and fell with his breathing.

There he was in Kurt’s bed now completely oblivious to the world around him, and Kurt felt a lump forming in his throat as he looked on at the sleeping boy. He swallowed it down, his chest seeming to tighten as he did. He was so close, if he reached out he could touch him, yet Kurt had never felt so distant from Blaine, like Kurt had thrown up a barrier to protect himself, which was even more crucial now than before.

He turned the light off and slumped down into the bed, pulling the covers up over himself. Kurt turned away to face the wall, listening to Blaine’s steady breaths and staring off into the dark until he was finally overcome with sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Summer arrived swiftly, and Kurt was hit hard. With all his newfound free time, he was growing restless, using the wand for more and more trivial things. But worst of all was the fact that Blaine was all he could think about. Everything was Blaine, from the brown ring left on the counter from his father’s morning coffee, to the stripes on one of Kurt’s favorite shirts that reminded him of the tie of Blaine’s school uniform.

It didn’t help that they had been spending even more time together, and Blaine was making a habit of showing up at his house out of nowhere completely unannounced. Kurt would have been a little peeved about that if Blaine didn’t have such remarkably good timing, never arriving at an inconvenient time like before Kurt had readied himself for the day or on those rare days that Kurt just wanted to be alone.

Burt was also getting used to having Blaine around and was confused when he didn’t see that head of dark curls somewhere around his house.

On one of those Blaine-absent days, Burt peeked his head around the corner and into Kurt’s bedroom only to find Kurt sitting cross-legged on his bed, bent over a paperback novel, his brow furrowed and a scowl on his face. “Hey, kiddo.”

Kurt glanced up from the book and grinned at the sight of his dad, the tension in his face and body dissipating.

“Whatcha got there? Anything good?”

“It’s called The Sun Also Rises. It’s on my reading list for AP English, so I figured I’d get a head start.” Kurt closed the book with a sigh and laid it on the bed. “It’s not really that exciting. I feel like I’m reading about a group of people who just drink. A lot. And sometimes there’s bullfighting.”

Burt chuckled. “Well, the pool’s been awful empty so far this summer. Did you wanna take a break for a swim? How about you invite Blaine over to join you,” he suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” He looked back down at the book again. “I don’t think Hemingway will make a fan out of me any time soon.” Kurt patted the cover. “Sorry, pal.” And then he climbed off his bed and went for his phone to call Blaine. 

-s-

The temperature outside was perfect for a swim, and the pool felt like a warm bath that had been heated by the unforgiving summer sun. Kurt was drifting on the inflatable raft, eyes closed and arms relaxed at his sides when a small wave of water came his way, startling him and hitting his face with spray. The deep laughter that followed caused Kurt to open his eyes and glare at his assailant.

“You’re lucky you’re -” Kurt got hit again, water splashing against his bare chest as he quickly turned his head away to protect his mouth and eyes. He slid off the raft, plunking into the water, and began to make his way toward Blaine, splashing him back the best he could.

Blaine simply smirked and then flashed a toothy grin at Kurt before a full-fledged splash war broke out in the pool.

Laughter from both boys filled the air around the backyard, and Kurt’s eyes were slightly burning from the chlorine. He ran his hand through the water and splashed Blaine again, this time hitting him right in the eyes.

Blaine froze, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and hair sopping as the water dripped down his tanned face. He wiped it away from his eyes, shaking his head like a dog, and then opened them again. “Oh, now you’ve done it. I’m going to dunk you, Hummel,” Blaine said, smiling mischievously as he began to move forward, bobbing toward Kurt in the water.

“No! No, no, no! Don’t you dare touch me, Anderson!” Kurt pointed warningly, trying to back up to get away, but he was almost up against the wall with little space to maneuver out of the line of attack.

Blaine laughed, arms outstretched as he moved forward in the water as quickly as the liquid pushing back on him allowed.

“I mean it. If you so much as -”

Blaine was now close enough to grab Kurt, and he wrapped his hands around his waist underneath the water and lifted him up. Kurt kicked and struggled, sending water splashing all around them, his laughter ringing out, betraying him in the face of his actual fear.

“Put me down! I swear -”

Then Blaine stopped. Kurt opened his eyes a crack, afraid that it was just a trick, but Blaine was staring at him curiously. He set him down slowly until Kurt’s feet were safely resting flat on the bottom of the pool again, but he didn’t remove his grip from Kurt’s waist.

Kurt suddenly felt nervous and exposed as Blaine stood there seemingly in a trance, the warm, strong fingers still against his bare skin by his rib cage. He felt a prickling heat rise up in his body, reaching his neck and ears.

“Blaine...?” he finally managed. “Is something wrong?”

He blinked, shaking his head slowly. “No, nothing’s wrong.” He paused. “Kurt, you’re...can I -?”

But before Blaine completed the thought that he seemed incapable of properly forming, he pulled Kurt in toward his body. Though the water was warm, Kurt felt his face and skin heating even more from the proximity, and then Blaine’s mouth was on his.

Kurt’s breath hitched in his chest and eyes widened in shock, but then he relaxed and let them fall closed as Blaine continued to kiss him. It was gentle, and, although it came as a surprise, it wasn’t forceful or assuming. His lips parted at the caress of Blaine’s, and then he pushed forward, kissing him back, the very thing he had been waiting so long to do. He’d felt so starved, but now he was drinking it in, becoming full with the warmth, love, and passion behind the kiss. He’d never done this before, but with Blaine it was easy, it felt natural.

When Blaine pulled away, Kurt immediately missed the graze of his lips, the ghost of the kiss lingering on his own. Blaine bashfully averted his eyes, his thick, dark, wet eyelashes fluttering rapidly. Then Kurt remembered how to breathe, finally forming a coherent thought.

“Wha- what was that for?” Kurt asked breathlessly.

“You just looked...the way the sun was reflecting in your eyes and - you’re beautiful, Kurt,” Blaine said so earnestly that Kurt’s stomach swooped.

Kurt had never seen Blaine so nervous and flustered before, which was even more astonishing right after he had been so bold to have kissed him.

He’d kissed him right there in the open air of the backyard, and now that he got a taste of Blaine’s lips, he wanted to do it again. And at least fifty more times until his lips were swollen, chapped, and sore.

Kurt’s eyes flickered from Blaine’s, which were practically glowing in the gradually fading daylight, to his slightly parted lips.

“I want to kiss you again,” Kurt said.

“Okay.”

Kurt lunged forward, grabbing Blaine’s face in his hands, and brought their mouths together once more. 

-s-

After a long shower, moisturizing, and deep conditioning his hair, Kurt emerged from his bedroom and entered the kitchen to sit down to dinner with his father. Blaine had politely declined the invitation to stay and headed home almost immediately following their swim. Although he didn’t want to leave Blaine’s side, Kurt was secretly glad that he’d decided not to stay, because he felt like it might have made for an incredibly awkward dinner if they both had to face his dad and pretend nothing had happened in the pool.

Burt Hummel was never a man of many words, but he was especially quiet this evening. The sound of silverware clinking against ceramic filled the silence between them, and Burt picked at his food, seemingly preoccupied. Kurt was growing worried, wondering what was on his dad’s mind that made him so disinterested in steak of all things.

Burt finally cleared his throat. “Okay, I can’t keep quiet anymore.” He set his knife and fork down and pushed his plate to the side.

“About what? What’s going on?”

“I was sorta waiting for you to tell me what was going on, but it’s obvious I need to force it out of you.”

“What are you even talking about -?” Then Kurt paused, his stomach turning as he realized that perhaps his and Blaine’s actions hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Oh, Dad, I -”

“I saw you guys, uh, earlier in the pool. I’m gonna be honest, it surprised me, made me a little uncomfortable, but I knew it would happen eventually,” Burt said, folding his hands on the tabletop and bowing his head.

Kurt felt his face growing increasingly hotter with each word his dad spoke. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He wanted to hide his face, go bury himself under a pile of blankets in his room and never come out.

Burt cleared his throat again before continuing. “So, tell me what’s going on.” He fixed his gaze on his visibly uncomfortable son, waiting for him to talk when he was ready.

Kurt took a deep breath and looked up to face his father, tears forming in his eyes. “Dad, I - I’m gay.”

“I know.”

“You - you do?”

“I’ve known since you were only a little thing, I guess I - I just wasn’t ready to see you kissing boys...and growing up,” Burt said.

Kurt didn’t know what to say. He was relieved that his dad was so calm, but he was equally as frightened that this was the calm before a storm.

“I may not be ready for you to grow up, Kurt, but I want you to know that I love you no matter what,” Burt said.

“Thank you,” Kurt choked out. “I love you too, Dad.”

“But - and I’m sorry I have to do this - there is something we have to discuss. Now that you and Blaine are, uh, an item, there are going to be new rules about him coming around,” Burt said. “What I mean to say is, you can’t have sleepovers anymore. And you can’t hang out in your room.”

“What?! That’s not fair,” Kurt said, placing his palms on the table and pushing himself up out of his seat.

“Please don’t act like this, Kurt. I’m sure you understand why,” Burt said.

He crossed his arms across his chest. “No, I really don’t.” Burt gave him a look, and then Kurt’s jaw dropped when he realized the implication. “No! Oh, no, no, no, no, no...” He waved his hands in front of him and shook his head vigorously, his cheeks beginning to color. “Blaine and I are not having -” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. He swallowed hard.

“Sex? C’mon, Kurt. I’m not an idiot. You’re a teenage boy -”

“ _Dad_!” Kurt was appalled and completely dumbfounded. He thought having to come out to his dad like that was bad enough, but things had just become so much more uncomfortable. “I can’t believe you would think that. Blaine is my best friend.” Or was he? Kurt wasn’t even sure how the kiss might change their relationship. What was Blaine to him now?

Burt began to distractedly clean up the dinner table, realizing that the meal had reached a premature conclusion. Then he set the stack of plates down heavy on the table and placed his palms flat on its surface as if steadying himself for what he was about to say next.

Kurt was now pacing the kitchen, muttering inaudible things, and he froze when his dad nearly shouted.

“We’re gonna talk about this, Kurt. Okay?” He jabbed the tabletop with his finger and then pointed his hand at Kurt. “You don’t get a choice. Just like I don’t get a choice. You’re my son, and it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re being safe -”

Kurt cut him off. “I don’t think you _understand_ , Dad.” Then he spoke in a voice small as a mouse, “That was my first kiss.”

Burt fell silent. A few minutes passed, and then he continued to clean up as he seemingly processed everything Kurt had told him. Kurt rinsed and washed his own dishes, set them in the drying rack, and then turned back toward his dad.

“I’m going to bed,” Kurt said quietly, wanting nothing more than to remove himself from the situation. His dad simply nodded to acknowledge his departure, and Kurt hurried down the stairs as fast as he could without throwing himself down them. 

-s-

Kurt thought he had seen her in every shape, color, and pattern by this point, yet Rachel insisted on trying on at least fifteen more dresses, a dozen sweaters, and way too many hideous bobby socks and loafers to count. So when she finally decided on a few of the least frightening outfits, Kurt was glad to be leaving Forever 21 and concluding their shopping trip.

The thing is that he loved Rachel, but she’d somehow gotten it into her head that, because Kurt was gay, he’d automatically make the perfect personal shopper and stylist. It was true: he loved a great neckerchief or patent leather boots as well as the next guy, but Rachel was a lost cause, and Kurt would rather dress a monkey than deal with her very eccentric yet completely tasteless fashion faux pas. So as he walked the mall, arms laden with bags filled with clothing from the juniors and women’s petite sections of nearly every store in the Lima Mall, he wasn’t feeling particularly in the spirit. He was grateful to at least have Mercedes along as well to keep him sane.

Back-to-school shopping had always been an exciting event for Kurt, but this year was different. Between his use of the wand and monthly allowance from his father, Kurt had already built his wardrobe, and anything he might still want was only a wish away. He was actually surprised that neither his dad nor his two best friends had said much about his recent acquisition and accumulation of possessions he was certain they knew were out of his price range.

“Thank god we’re finally finished with that, because I could really go for a Cinnabon right now,” Mercedes said.

“Yes, please,” Kurt agreed, glad that he and Mercedes were on the same wavelength. “To the food court!”

The warm, sweet, spicy aromas of Cinnabon and the zesty, savory scents of the neighboring Mexican place hit Kurt’s senses before they had officially set foot in the food court. He couldn’t wait to indulge in sweet, gooey, goodness or anything deep-fried and cheesy. It wouldn’t hurt to reward himself after putting up with Rachel all day.

“Shopping is exhausting,” Rachel said, dramatically slumping down onto one of the chairs around the small, round table. She tossed her hair over her shoulder before going digging in her purse.

Kurt and Mercedes exchanged a look, and Kurt rolled his eyes and deliberately dropped Rachel’s bags onto the floor before pulling his own chair out to sit.

“Usually you’re all about clothes shopping, Kurt, like you live for it, but you seem off today,” Rachel said without looking up. “You didn’t even look at a single pair of shoes - oh, there it is...” She plucked a small tube of chapstick out of her bag, applied a thin layer to her lips, dropped it back in, and then snapped the bag shut.

“Rachel’s got a point,” Mercedes said, shooting Kurt a pointed look. “Is something getting you down, Kurt? What’s going on with a certain _someone_?”

“Oh, yes!” Rachel said. She leaned in toward him, beaming and prodding him in the arm. “What is going on with you and _Blaine_?”

“Tell us all the juicy stuff,” Mercedes added, leaning forward over the table.

“Guys, there isn’t really much to tell,” Kurt said, but he knew the heat rising in his face was giving him away.

“You’re blushing, Kurt,” Mercedes said. “Oh my god, did Blaine finally...?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, ducking his head. “We finally kissed -”

Both Rachel and Mercedes squealed, causing Kurt to jump.

He raised both hands up, gesturing for them to keep it down. “Calm down there, you two.”

“C’mon, Kurt. Give us all the details,” Rachel said.

“Okay...we were in the pool -”

“That’s so cute!”

“Shush, Rachel. Stop interrupting him,” Mercedes said, giving Rachel’s arm a swat. She turned back to Kurt, smiling. “Go on.”

“We were swimming, and then he just - he kissed me,” Kurt said, his eyes distant, and his mouth stretched into a grin that took over his face.

“That’s so sweet. Wish I had a boy like that.” Mercedes rested her chin in her hand. “That leaves me as the only one who hasn’t been kissed.”

“Last week, Finn and I were at the movies, and we started making out -”

“Shut up, Rachel,” Mercedes said. “This isn’t about you, and we sure as hell don’t need to hear about Finn eating your face. We see enough of it in the hallway at school. This is summer _break_ for a reason.”

Kurt laughed for a good minute and then sighed. “I can’t believe it’s almost over already though.”

“This is going to be a good year for glee club - for us,” Rachel said. “I can feel it.” She reached over and grabbed both their hands atop the table.

“Enough about school and boys and summer,” Mercedes said rising from her seat. “There’s a Cinnabon cinnamon roll the size of my face with my name on it.”

“Yes, yes,” Kurt said, and they were already rushing away from the table together.

“I guess I’ll just - get me a lemonade...? Guys?” Rachel called after them. “I’ll just be here by myself.” She looked down at the large collection of bags by her feet. “With all this stuff.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt threw his hands up just in time to stop his face from colliding with his locker. His books went flying out of his hands, landing with a thud and skidding across the floor by his feet.

“Watch where you’re standing, _lady_.”

Kurt turned around in just enough time to catch the cocky smirk on Dave Karofsky’s broad face before he continued down the hallway, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his letterman jacket. He glared at the back of the burly football player’s head as he massaged his wrist and arm where he’d made impact with metal.

He’d had such a relaxing and enjoyable summer that he’d almost forgotten the horror and torment that awaited him in the halls of McKinley. Kurt could hope and wish with all his might every year that things would be better for him, and sometimes he wished he possessed Rachel's stubborn optimism toward all things, but it didn’t seem like people like Karofsky were going away anytime soon.

Sometimes the only things getting him through the day were the promise of glee club and text messages from Blaine.

After a conversation following the kiss that involved much more making out than actual talking, Kurt and Blaine had established that they were official, and, ever since, Blaine had been texting him every day, multiple times a day. Each and every message brought a smile to Kurt’s face, and he would clutch his phone to his chest, holding Blaine’s words close to his racing heart.  

Kurt kneeled down and gathered his jettisoned books, scooping them up in his arms, and then straightened himself back out. He only had a minute to get to History class before the bell. His phone had buzzed with a text the previous period, but he hadn’t had a chance to check it yet.

Entirely out of breath from his mad dash through the hall, Kurt dropped into his usual seat in the front corner of the room only a split second before he heard that telltale ringing, signaling the start of class. He watched the teacher closely and warily for a few minutes, and when she turned her back to write something on the board, Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket.

When he opened up the text that asked how his day was going, Kurt wanted to tell Blaine the truth about how he could hardly stand setting foot in the school, about how Dave Karofsky was a sadistic jackass and he wished he would just leave him alone, that sometimes he just wanted to run away and leave everything behind.

Instead, Kurt typed out:

_great, now that I’m talking to you :)_

He quickly hid his phone under the desk as the teacher spun back around, his thumb hovering over the send button, let out a heavy sigh, and then pressed it. He hadn’t lied completely, but he didn’t feel any better about keeping the truth constantly bottled up. Kurt shoved his phone into his bag and put his head down for the remainder of the period, not even bothering to take notes.

The teacher never said a word to him. 

-s-

Kurt slid the cover onto his calculator with a click and leaned back in the wooden chair, stretching his arms up above his head. With a sly grin, he stretched his leg out under the table and nudged Blaine’s shin with a socked foot. Blaine looked up from his chemistry textbook and glared at Kurt, but it was impossible for him to feign mad for long. He shook his head and smiled.

“What?”

“I’m bored of solving for imaginary numbers or multiplying by them or whatever. I can’t even concentrate, not with the week I’ve been having, and certainly not with you sitting there across from me cute as can be,” Kurt said, batting his lashes.

“Maybe I should leave then,” Blaine teased, pretending to rise from his seat.

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary,” Kurt said. “I just -” Kurt worried his bottom lip between his teeth, his expression turned somber. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure.” Blaine set his worksheet between the pages and closed the book to give Kurt his full attention. “What’s on your mind?”

“You know how you keep asking me if something’s wrong and I keep telling you I’m just tired from gym class or glee was exhausting or that they didn’t have my favorite cookie in the cafeteria or I had a disagreement with my history teacher again...?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said.

“Well, while _some_ of those things may be true, it’s not the reason I’ve been so strung out lately. I just don’t know how to tell you the truth when it doesn’t really seem like anyone cares,” Kurt said.

“Kurt, you know I’m always here for you. I’m actually kinda hurt that you don’t think you can open up to me or that _I_ wouldn’t care,” Blaine said.

“I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” Kurt said. “And, to be honest, the time we spend together is so good, and being with you is like a break from everything else, that I don’t want to bring all the bad stuff into it.”

“It’s not, Kurt. I mean, you wouldn’t be. You’re my best friend and boyfriend, and I don’t want you to ever think you can’t talk to me. You can tell me anything,” Blaine said, an earnest look in his eyes. “I mean it.”

“I guess I am being a little silly, considering how open and honest you’ve been with me about everything. God, why am I even worried? You’re probably the only person who could really understand.” He took a deep breath, slid his textbook out of the way, and folded his hands on the table. “There’s a guy at school who won’t leave me alone.”

“You mean, like, he’s into you...?”

“No! Far from it. He’s a football player who has made it his goal to make my life hell. I’ve been shoved into lockers at least three times this week alone, been called names I won’t repeat, and even had a silk scarf and dress shirt destroyed by one of those slushie drinks from the convenience store down the road from the school.”

“Does no one see any of that happening? Why does no one do anything about it?” Blaine said, and there was an edge to his voice Kurt had never heard before.

“I think they do see it. They just choose to look the other way. And that’s not even the worst of it,” Kurt said, growing quiet. “You know how I wouldn’t let you touch me and I’ve been really reluctant to do anything or mess around recently?”

“Yeah...”

“That jerk and a few of his Neanderthal jock friends threw me in the dumpster on the first day of school, and I think I sprained my wrist...”

“Oh, _Kurt_ ,” Blaine cooed, actually rising from his chair this time and moving swiftly to Kurt’s side. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Does your dad know? You really should have said something, should have gotten it checked out.” He gently grabbed Kurt’s hand and lifted it up to examine his wrist. When Blaine slid the sleeve of Kurt’s shirt up, he winced at the deep purple and yellow bruising, appearing physically ill at the sight. Blaine’s face grew stony for a second before a scowl fell over it. “That bastard,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Kurt pulled his arm away, tugging his sleeve back down. “It’s okay,” Kurt said.

“No, it’s not okay. That asshole can’t just do what he wants to you and push you around like this. You don’t deserve that abuse.”

“What do you propose I do then, Blaine? I already tried telling the principal, and he doesn’t want to hear it, no student or teacher seems to want to get involved, and Karofsky would probably kill me if I had so much as tried to fight back.” There were tears of anger and frustration forming in Kurt’s eyes now. “And that’s the reason why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew it would just make you upset and feel just as helpless about the situation as I do.”

Blaine turned and began to pace the kitchen, and Kurt’s eyes followed his movement. Then Blaine hesitated and turned back to Kurt, raising his hand as if something had just come to him.

“But you aren’t helpless, Kurt.”

“I’m not letting you get involved in this, Blaine,” Kurt said, rising in a huff.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I was thinking...what if you used the wand to get back at him - or, at least, to get him off your back, to send a warning,” Blaine said.

Kurt crossed his arms, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “How?”

“We could pull some pranks on him, something harmless,” Blaine suggested.

“And you really think that will help anything?”

“Maybe. Maybe not, but it might make you feel a little better. I know it will make me feel better anyway,” Blaine said.

Kurt laughed. “You really are devious, Anderson.” He stepped toward Blaine and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I can’t believe you want to exact revenge on my bully.”

“I just can’t stand to see you hurting,” Blaine said. He leaned in and brought his mouth to Kurt’s, kissing him slowly but briefly. “That Karofsky guy needs a good scare. Nothing more.”

Someone cleared his throat deliberately, and Kurt and Blaine jumped apart from each other, spinning around to discover Burt standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“That doesn’t look like homework,” Burt said.

“I think maybe I should go now.” Blaine rushed back to the table to gather up his things.

“You don’t have to,” Kurt said.

“My parents probably want me home. Besides, I’ve been over almost every day this week,” Blaine said. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Alright,” Kurt said, and he helped Blaine pack up his last few belongings from the table.

Blaine slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and turned back to Kurt. “Are we meeting for coffee this weekend?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Kurt said. He wrapped Blaine into a hug. “We have a lot to discuss,” he spoke quietly by Blaine’s ear before letting go.

Kurt walked Blaine to the door and saw him out.

“I didn’t mean to scare him off, you know,” Burt said from behind Kurt.

“You didn’t. I think Blaine just has a lot on his mind right now, Dad.” 

-s-

Customers entered, exited, and milled about the coffee shop, and the chatter from the groups at the surrounding tables was enough to mask the hushed conversation taking place in the corner between Kurt and Blaine.

“You’ll need to bring it to school, of course,” Blaine said. “So that’s something you’ll need to work out.”

“I can keep it in my gym bag,” Kurt said.

“Perfect.” Blaine drank the last few sips of his coffee and set the cup back down. “Let’s go over the plan one last time.”

“I stow the wand in my gym bag and keep it in my locker until fourth period,” Kurt began.

“Then you’ll stall as you’re dressing for gym, and when everyone’s left the locker room, you’ll use it to swap Karofsky’s clothing with ones that are less fitting,” Blaine continued.

“Then he’ll have no choice but to change back into the clothes and wear them for the rest of the day, or, at least until he gets someone to bring him in new ones.”

“From what you’ve told me about him, he might not even notice that they aren’t the same. He might even think he gained muscle mass or something from playing dodgeball during the short period and only be a little perturbed by the new tightness of his ensemble,” Blaine said.

“That honestly wouldn’t surprise me,” Kurt said. “What if I have a bit more fun and add an accent in a spot he most likely won’t notice?”

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea at all,” Blaine said. “So...” He leaned in toward Kurt. “Operation Big Guy in a Little Shirt is a go?”

Kurt chuckled at the name choice, finding it difficult to stop laughing at the image it conjured in his mind. When he finally calmed down and caught his breath, Kurt looked Blaine right in the eye and said, “Oh, it’s on.”


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt absentmindedly ran the pad of his thumb over the handle of the wand. He felt the grooves in the resin meant to mimic the prop from the film series but paused when he noticed something strange on it he hadn’t before. He brought the wand closer to examine it, and there he saw a minute insignia of some sort of bird.

“That’s odd,” Kurt said to himself. He didn’t think the wand from the movie had anything like that on it, but he had to get going if he wanted to make it to school on time, so he slid the wand into his gym bag and zipped it closed.

When Kurt arrived at school, he pulled into his usual spot in the student lot. As soon as he stepped out of the car and headed toward the double doors, he knew there was no turning back. The night before, he’d had a few misgivings, but Kurt remembered what Blaine had said: they were only going to scare Karofsky a little bit. And it probably would make him feel better, if only temporarily.

He was careful to go about his day doing everything as he usually would to avoid any suspicion, but something happened on his way to third period that threw Kurt off course and nearly made him give up the whole charade.

Someone laid a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, and he spun around, his hand tightly clutching the shoulder strap of his bag.

“Kurt,” Brittany said, short of breath from sprinting down the hallway to catch up with him. “I’m getting a really high reading when I’m around you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know you’re a unicorn like me, but you need to be really careful and learn how to better conceal your magic.”

“Okay, Brittany. I’ll make sure I do that,” he said to humor her and get her off his back. He turned to walk away, but she pulled him back.

“I’m only trying to be helpful. There are bad people out there, Kurt, people who will tell you riddles to deceive you and steal your gold.”

“My wha -? I’ll be extra careful, Brit. I promise.”

What on earth was she talking about? He hurried away as fast as his legs could carry him, nearly tripping over his own feet as he reached his next class and stumbled through the doorway. Kurt knew that Brittany was always like that, downright childlike and often spouting complete nonsense. Although she was harmless, what she’d said to Kurt shook him up a bit. He was sure it was purely coincidence, and it was impossible that she knew anything about the wand and what he was up to. Even so, the encounter still made him feel incredibly nervous.

The forty-five minute period flew by in a blur, and Kurt hadn’t caught a word of what the teacher said during the lesson, because all he could think about was what he was about to do, running over the plan ad nauseam in his head. His palms were sweating as he watched the clock tick down the last few minutes of class, and he wiped them on his pants before gathering up his books and bag.

When the bell rang, he was off like a horse from the gate in a high-stakes race. 

-s-

Kurt splashed cold water over his face repeatedly before finally turning off the spigot. He grasped the porcelain sink with both hands and looked up into the mirror, taking deep, steady breaths.

When the noise level died down, he peered around the corner to see if the coast was clear, and he watched as the last guy exited the locker room, the heavy door swinging closed behind him. He crept out of the bathroom and over to his gym locker, promptly digging the wand out from where it was wrapped up in a t-shirt.

Kurt held it aloft, and then he closed his eyes, carefully imagining every detail of the clothing Karofsky had worn that day and a little surprise accent he’d thought up. This wasn’t like their usual gig, and he’d worried that the summoning charm wouldn’t be enough to do the job, but Blaine had been confident and so sure of himself that Kurt was convinced enough to give it a try.

“Accio polo and cargo jeans,” he whispered, pointing the wand at Dave’s locker.

He listened closely, hearing only a soft rustling and then nothing.

Feeling giddy now, Kurt hid the wand away in his bag beneath his clothes, stuffed it in his locker, and clicked the combination lock closed. Right before Kurt left the locker room to enter the gym, he pulled out his phone and texted Blaine:

 _mischief managed_  

-s-

Kurt heard murmurs around him up and down the hall, and then he heard the laughter, quiet at first but spreading and rising in volume. He glanced over his shoulder from where he stood by his locker, pretending to only be fixing his hair. He moved the door on its hinges, angling it just right so he had a good view through his mirror of the proceedings and commotion rising up in the hallway.

“Nice outfit, Karofsky,” one of his teammates said, slapping him on the back.

“What happened? Did your mom shrink it in the dryer?”

Kurt snickered to himself and then fake coughed in attempt to cover it up.

“Knock it off.”

“Wait a minute...what the hell is this?”

The group of boys and surrounding students burst into raucous laughter, and Dave forcefully shoved the one guy off of him who had been tugging at his collar.

“He’s got a fucking rainbow tag.” More laughter rang out, and Karofsky’s face turned as red as his football jersey. He looked like he was about to either murder or take off running to go hide in a hole. But Kurt knew he was more of a fight than flight kind of guy, and things were most likely about to become ugly very shortly.

“Karofsky’s a fag!”

Kurt winced, and his stomach turned at the word and how it so easily rolled off the boy’s tongue. Suddenly, not much of this was funny anymore, and Kurt was beginning to regret that particular detail. But, much to Kurt’s surprise, Karofsky merely growled and stormed off down the hall away from the laughter that rang out after him.

After slamming his locker shut, Kurt ducked his head, tightly gripping the strap of his bag, and hurried off to the cafeteria where he would usually see Dave. But he was fairly certain his bully wouldn’t be showing his face today.

While he got a good laugh out of it and forced Karofsky to take a walk in his shoes, Kurt’s stomach felt a bit uneasy as he nibbled at his lunch. Appetite diminished, Kurt tossed the remainder of his lunch in the garbage, pulled his video game out of his bag, and played it to take his mind off of everything, ignoring and successfully tuning out Mercedes, Artie, and Rachel who were having a debate of sorts with Santana and Brittany. 

-s-

Kurt entered the choir room like a hurricane, fists balled at his sides, jaw clenched, and his Doc Marten-clad feet falling heavily as he made a beeline toward a certain individual who was at the top of his list of culprits.

“Where is it!?” Kurt snarled, getting right up in Puck’s face. “I know you took it!” Kurt’s face was growing beet red as he clenched his fists at his sides, and his entire body trembled as he fought to keep himself from doing something rash and incredibly stupid. As angry as Kurt was, his judgment wasn’t completely clouded. Noah Puckerman was still larger and a lot more experienced when it came to fighting. Finding out what his fist felt like when it collided with his face was not Kurt’s idea of a good time and certainly not something he had planned to experience today or ever.

“What are you talking about, Hummel? I don’t have anything of yours.” Puck’s cool and collected attitude only served to feed Kurt’s anger, and he groaned in frustration.

“My 3DS,” Kurt spat. “I must have set it down when I went to the bathroom, and you took it!”

“Calm down, spaz. Why do you think I would steal your stupid video game when you probably only own, like, Barbie’s fashion adventures or some gay shit like that,” Puck said.

“Because I don’t see anyone else in here with a juvenile record,” Kurt said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” Puck raised his hands in front of him and stood up. “I didn’t take your stupid game. I’m out of here.” He leaped down from the second row of chairs and left the choir room.

“Puck? Puck!” Mr. Schuester called after him. “Where are you going? Rehearsal hasn’t even started yet.”

Kurt turned around and dropped into his seat, crossing his arms and legs. He looked over at Mercedes, but all she did was shake her head at him.

“Don’t look at me, Kurt. I’m not getting involved in this.”

“That wasn’t cool at all,” Finn said from behind Kurt, and he rolled his eyes at the quarterback. Of course he was defending his best friend. Those jerks stuck together and seemed to run in herds like cattle. Before the whole glee club thing and Rachel practically whipping Finn, he had been just as guilty as the rest of them like Karofsky who targeted and tormented Kurt.

“Mark my words,” Kurt said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I’m going to find out who took it, and I’m _not_ letting you guys push me around any longer.” 

-s-

Blaine sat there in stitches, gripping his stomach as Kurt animatedly relayed the story of the prank to him. Blaine’s amusement and approval made Kurt feel so much better about the entire situation, and the unease he’d been feeling completely dissipated by the time he finished the story and got it all off his chest. He only left out one particular detail.

“Oh - my - god,” he said, punctuated by laughter. “You actually made his tag a pride flag?”

“Yeah. It seemed like a good idea, sorta like a subtle warning message,” Kurt said.

“That’s kind of brilliant.”

“Thank you. But...don’t you think it was a little mean?”

“Not really. Maybe it will make him think before he decides to pick on you again.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it will make him come down harder on me.” Kurt shuddered at the thought.

“But there’s no way he knows who did it. I doubt there will be any kind of retaliation,” Blaine said.

“I think you’re right,” Kurt said. “I’m sure I have nothing to worry about.” 

-s-

The following day, Karofsky shoved Kurt into his locker and continued on his way without his usual insult, smirk, or sound of any kind. Kurt stood there silently fuming.

That’s when Kurt saw it, his 3DS sticking out of the back pocket of Karofsky’s jeans. His stomach turned, and he chewed on his bottom lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him, but Kurt shook it off, his anger rising and surging through him again.

Then he took out his phone and texted Blaine:

_so...what’s the next plan of attack?_

**_I hadn’t thought about it_ **

_well get your cute little noggin in gear. I’m tired of being so well-acquainted with school lockers :/_

**_he did it again?_ **

_yep._

_coffee today?_

**_yeah. coffee. :)_ **

-s-

“Are you okay?” Blaine slid into the chair and leaned across the table and in toward Kurt.

“No, but that’s why we’re here, right? To discuss the next prank.”

“Yeah. So I was thinking,” Blaine began. “You have lunch at the same time he does, right?” Kurt nodded. “Why don’t we switch up his sandwich or something?”

“Hmm...seems just silly enough. He does seem to eat the same two things every day. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give him a little variety in his diet,” Kurt said with a laugh.

“This one might be a little trickier to pull off though,” Blaine said. “I think you’ll need to bring your coffee to school and leave it in your bag. Then you can ask to use the bathroom and switch up his lunch when no one is in the halls.”

“That seems a bit risky. I can’t be seen anywhere near his locker,” Kurt said. “There’s still the hall monitor to look out for.”

“You don’t have to go far. His locker is only a few down from yours - alphabetical order and all.”

“True. I think I can do it from my locker. Alright, I think I’ve got this figured out,” Kurt said.

“I wish I could be there to see it,” Blaine said. “But make sure you let me know what happens.”

“Of course,” Kurt said. “You can count on me.” He winked, and they both laughed. 

-s-

Everything had gone according to plan: Kurt got out of class under the guise of a bathroom trip, retrieved the wand from his bag, switched Karofsky’s sandwich out for a good old fashioned peanut butter and jelly, and stowed the wand again, zipping it up into the inside pocket of his messenger bag before returning to class.

All that was left was to wait out the next few periods, survive gym class, and then grab a seat in the cafeteria to witness a very confused football player and what he’ll do without his usual meat and cheese combo.

Rachel was already seated at their table when Kurt finished navigating the line at the lunch counter, and he took the seat across from her, his plastic tray clattering as he set it on the tabletop.

“You were bold to call out Puck like you did,” Rachel said without looking up from her salad. She pushed some of the greens around with her plastic fork before stabbing a cherry tomato to bring it to her mouth. “You know he didn’t really steal your game. Finn talked to him.”

“I know that now,” Kurt said. “And I know who _did_ take it, too.”

Rachel finally looked up, swallowing the last bits of tomato. “Who?”

Kurt turned in his seat, nodding his head in the direction of Dave Karofsky’s table, and then Rachel suddenly sprang up from her seat, nearly upending the table, and let out a piercing shriek. He jumped and turned so fast he got whiplash, his eyes widening in horror as he massaged the side of his neck and took in the scene that was unfolding in the cafeteria.

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

“Someone has to do something!” Rachel yelled, looking around frantically and waving her hands in the air.

“I think he’s having an allergic reaction,” Artie said as he rolled up quickly to the table.

Dave was now on the floor gasping for air, his face turning red, while his friends crowded around him. Someone must have sent someone out, because seconds later the nurse burst into the room, followed quickly by Principal Figgins and Sue Sylvester who took out an EpiPen. Kurt flinched as she unhesitatingly jabbed Karofsky in the leg with it.

“Everyone get back in your seats and remain seated!” Sue shouted. The entire lunchroom fell quiet almost instantly, and all eyes were now on Dave and the teachers. Karofsky was now breathing freely, but Figgins must have called 911 because within minutes sirens could be heard approaching the school.

Kurt felt like his whole world was in slow motion as he watched the EMTs place Karofsky onto a stretcher and roll him out of the room. His vision grew cloudy as his head began to spin. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears like the pressure of being under water, his heart pounding deafeningly, and then with a sharp intake of breath, Kurt was finally breathing again.

“Kurt,” he heard a voice say. “Kurt.”

Kurt turned to face Rachel, Artie, and Mercedes who were now all staring almost scrutinizingly at him.

“Boy, you are pale as a ghost,” Mercedes said.

“I’m - I’m okay,” Kurt eventually managed.

“That was really scary,” Rachel said. “But I’m sure he’s going to be alright.”

Kurt turned and stared at the floor where Karofsky had been seated not but minutes before, and he swallowed hard. What had he done? _Had_ he done that to him? He felt like he was going to puke, and he slapped his hand over his mouth.

“I’ve gotta -” But Kurt couldn't complete the thought before he was racing out the side door on his way to the bathroom.

He closed himself in the stall and collapsed onto the cold, dirty, tile floor, nearly hyperventilating as he stared into the water in the toilet bowl. He curled up into a ball, his head between his knees, and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. In, out. In, out. In...

Kurt’s phone went off in his pocket.

**_mischief managed...?_ **

He swiftly pulled up his contacts and pressed Blaine’s name even though he knew he was still in school and probably in the middle of class. It only rang once before he picked up.

“Blaine,” Kurt gasped.

“Kurt? Why do you sound like that? Is everything alright? What’s going on?”

“Something happened, something bad,” Kurt said.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I made a huge mistake.” An all-too-vivid image of Karofsky red-faced and fighting for air surfaced in his mind’s eye.

“Kurt.”

Kurt was silent as he felt something coiling unpleasantly in his stomach. “I’ve gotta go. I need to go.”

Kurt ended the call, gripped the seat of the toilet, and threw up the remnants of his breakfast. 

-s-

His phone was blowing up in the empty passenger seat beside him as he drove toward the hospital. When he was stopped at a red light, Kurt finally glanced over, and, sure enough, there were at least ten messages, most of which were from Blaine.

He’d cut school and took off miraculously undetected. The teachers and his friends were sure to have noticed his absence by now and had begun to worry, but he didn’t want to deal with that or face them at the moment. His conscience kept screaming at him to keep driving, keep his eyes on the road and foot on the gas. He had to make sure Karofsky was okay.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist at the front desk looked him up and down. She lifted her pen.

“I’m v-visiting.”

“Name of patient?”

“Karofsky - David Karofsky.”

“One moment.”

Kurt looked around nervously, wringing his hands in front of him. Hospitals made him uncomfortable. He hated the antiseptic smells and the fluorescent lighting and the sounds that could be heard down the halls of people suffering and in pain.

“Take this.” She handed him a visitor’s badge to stick on his shirt. “He’s in room 314. Take the elevator up to the third floor.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said. He peeled the sticker off, stuck it on, and then pivoted around until he caught sight of the elevators.

He tapped his foot and glanced around as he rode it up, and when the doors slid open on the correct floor, Kurt stepped out, looking for signs that would point him in the right direction.

Kurt wandered down the hall, avoiding eye contact with the nurses, doctors and other personnel and patients who crossed his path, stopping when he located the room.

Right before he was about to step through the doorway, it hit him. What did he think he was doing? This was a kid who beat on him, called him horrible names, even hated him, and here Kurt was, showing up in the hospital with no reason to see him? Karofsky would probably think Kurt was there to laugh at him in his disadvantaged and weakened state, to rub it in and kick him while he’s down. No matter what, he was sure to be confused by Kurt’s presence.

Dave wasn’t alone in the room, but when the man sitting beside the bed spotted Kurt, he seemed to recognize him and waved him in. Kurt was apprehensive and a bit uncertain, but he entered as directed and approached the bed slowly.

Karofsky furrowed his brow when he saw him. “Kurt?”

Karofsky was partially sitting up, an IV in his arm, but otherwise he looked well, just a bit tired. Kurt stared his tormentor in the eye and took a deep breath.

“Hey.”

“Do you want me to leave you two alone?” the man asked.

Dave shifted in the bed. “Yeah, that’s fine, Dad.”

Kurt wasn’t so sure it was.

“I’m gonna go get a snack, and then I’ll be back up.” He looked back one last time, his eyes darting from one boy to the other, and then left the room.

“Why are you here, Hummel?” His tone was stern, more intimidating than when he’d first addressed him.

“I wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Why do you even care? Never mind. I’m fine. It turns out my lunch got mixed up with someone else’s somehow, and I didn’t see or smell the peanut butter until I had already bitten into it.”

“Peanut butter...?”

“I’m deathly allergic, which sucks. Have to avoid peanuts like the plague. I know, go ahead and laugh. It’s a good thing they keep EpiPens in the nurse’s office, or I’d be shit out of luck.” Dave laughed despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you really come? I may not be the brightest, but I can tell you didn’t show up out of the goodness of your heart. Something’s going on with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said feebly.

Dave tilted his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“I think I may have been responsible for the mix up.”

“What?” Karofsky began to laugh again. “You? I don’t understand.”

“It’s hard to explain, but what’s important is that I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Dave was quiet for a moment. “I wouldn’t blame you if you had meant it.”

“You...what?”

“We both know I haven’t exactly been nice to you.”

“No, you haven’t.” Kurt’s tone turned harsh, though he hadn’t wanted to go down this road, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You’ve treated me like garbage, have complete disregard for me and my belongings, push me around and beat me down like I’m some kind of diseased undesirable, like I’m not even _human_.”

“So you came here to tell me off.”

“No, I -” Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose and calmed himself down. “Listen, can we just come to a truce or something? I’m not even sure why you have it out for me, but I’m getting tired of it, of all the abuse. What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing. You want the truth? I just can’t stand you. I can’t stand you and your prissy hair and girly voice and how you dance around in that stupid, nerdy glee club you’re in -”

“Enough!” Kurt cut him off. “I don’t need to hear any more.”

“You didn’t do anything to me. Just seeing you every day...” Karofsky trailed off as if he had to stop himself from uttering more damaging things. He threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling, like he couldn’t even stand to look at Kurt anymore.

“I’m sorry my existence inconveniences you, but I’m not sorry that I’m the way that I am. I’m never going to change, and you can’t make me, no matter what you do to me.”

“Leave, Kurt. Please, just leave.”

“I will, but not until you give me back what you stole from me.”

Karofsky lifted his hand defeatedly and pointed toward the corner. “It’s over there. In my school bag.” He watched as Kurt hurried toward it and began digging through it. Kurt located the 3DS and snatched it up. “You’re really good at Ocarina of Time. I didn’t erase your game.”

He pivoted slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re so considerate,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Why is your file name ‘Blaine’ in the game? Is that your boyfriend or something?” Karofsky asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Kurt felt his face heating up. “That’s none of your business,” he snapped.

“Whatever. I was just curious.” Dave turned his head toward the wall.

“Don’t be. I’m going now.” Kurt turned and started toward the door.

“Truce.”

Kurt looked back. “What?”

“You asked for a truce, so I’m saying truce, Hummel.”

“Fine. Truce.”

And then he left the hospital room, passing quickly by Mr. Karofsky in the hall on his way to the elevator and out of the building.

The automatic doors of the emergency room sector slid open, and Kurt stepped out into the sunlight, squinting as he scanned the lot for his car.

There was a lot on his mind, and he needed some time to sort it all out. Kurt had left his phone in the car so he didn’t have to be bothered, and when he climbed into the driver’s seat, he finally picked up the neglected device. He wasn’t interested in the predictable “where are you”s and “are you okay”s. He opened up the most recent message from Blaine and typed out one of the most dreaded phrases had it been in other context:

 _we need to talk_  

-s-

Kurt shivered and pulled the covers up over himself, wrapping his body like a cocoon. He tossed and turned, kicking his bedsheets loose, silently pleading for sleep to come to him. But he didn’t feel like he’d be so lucky. His stomach felt uneasy, and he was overwhelmed with guilt, about the day, about how he had made unjust accusations, did some deplorable things, and had been acting selfishly lately.

Who was he turning into? Whoever it was, he knew it wasn’t him.

What good did it really do in the end to bully his bully? Kurt now knew how much of a mistake it had been to listen to Blaine, to go along with his plans. Surely, he’d already known about the consequences of revenge, which were never good.

And he knew he had to put an end to it all.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt Hummel was pulling the brakes on the whole wand situation. There was no way he was allowing any of this to go on, not after the previous day’s events. It was too dangerous to continue using it. So, despite the promise he had made his dad, he called Blaine to come over while Burt was at work, because this wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in the Lima Bean or anywhere they could possibly be overheard. At least Kurt was confident that Blaine would understand, though it wasn’t something Kurt was completely happy about. The wand had been a great source of fun in the past, the thing that had brought them together, that they’d bonded over. It was the thing that gave him Blaine, and he’d never been happier.

What made up his mind was knowing that, with or without the wand, they would still have each other. And Blaine was enough for him. Blaine was everything Kurt had ever wanted and more, had fit into his life so flawlessly and filled gaps that no one and nothing else could.

Blaine sat there on the edge of Kurt’s bed, waiting patiently for Kurt to stop pacing and get whatever it was he needed to say off his chest. Kurt walked back toward the bed and slumped down onto the mattress next to Blaine who turned to give him his attention.

“I switched up his sandwich for peanut butter and jelly. Dave Karofsky is severely allergic to peanuts, and it put him in the hospital. _I_ put him in the hospital, Blaine!”

“Calm down, Kurt.”

“I can’t calm down. It was supposed to be a harmless prank, but it went horribly wrong. I’m as bad as he is!”

“No, you aren’t. You are _nothing_ like him,” Blaine said, raising his voice. He laid his hand on Kurt’s thigh, and Kurt let out a heavy sigh. “You didn’t mean to do it. There was no way you could have known,” Blaine spoke in a softer voice.

“I know, but I still feel awful about it. I can’t do this anymore, Blaine. It was fun at first, believe me, but it’s gotten out of control.”

Blaine looked alarmed. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep using the wand. I admit, it felt so good - it _feels_ so good - to have that power literally at my fingertips, but I don’t want the risk that comes with it, the risk that I’ll use it again, abuse that power, and hurt someone.”

Blaine began to gently rub Kurt’s leg to comfort him, but Kurt pulled away from him and rose from the bed. “C’mon, Kurt. I don’t think one mishap is a reason to give up something so awesome, the thing that brought us together -”

“I knew you were going to say that, and don’t think for one second that I haven’t thought about it too.”

“So, then what are you going to do with it?” Blaine asked.

“I don’t know. Put it away. Maybe get rid of it. Though if I get rid of it, there’s the chance it could fall into the hands of someone with fewer reservations than myself. I don’t want to destroy it.” He shook his head. “No. I’ll just have to put it away somewhere.”

“You can’t punish yourself for one mistake. What are the chances really of it happening again?”

“The chances -? Wait. Why are you trying to talk me out of this? What don’t you get about ‘I put someone in the hospital’, Blaine?”

“I understand it perfectly, it’s just that -” Blaine paused. “Listen, Kurt. You can’t stop using the wand.”

“What do you mean can’t? You’re acting very strange, Blaine. I thought I could count on you to understand and to trust and support my decision, but now I feel like I don’t even know about you.”

Blaine rose from the bed now, letting his hands fall down to slap against his thighs. “You’re right. You don’t know about me.”

“Stop being an ass.”

“Look at me, Kurt,” Blaine snapped, his voice wavering and harsh. “Do I look like I’m joking?” Kurt froze, frightened by the edge in Blaine’s voice. There were unshed tears glistening in Blaine’s eyes that made them look even more golden than usual, but in them was pain, and Kurt felt a lump rising in his throat as he held his gaze. “You can’t stop using the wand, because - because I’m not who you think I am. I’m not _what_ you think I am.”

“What do you mean you’re not -”

“Please, Kurt. Just let me explain.” Blaine furrowed his brow, his eyes downcast as he tried to think of the words to begin. After a beat, he took a breath and looked back up into Kurt’s eyes. “Didn’t you ever wonder how you just happened upon a magical object?”

“Of course I wondered, and I still have no idea how it’s possible. But eventually I stopped questioning it because it would only drive me crazy, trying to find an answer that didn’t exist.”

“Do you really think that that wand is something from your favorite fictional universe, that somehow you were gifted a piece of the Harry Potter world?”

“I don’t know, Blaine. I don’t believe in much, but I want to believe in something. You don’t know either, and that’s even more of a reason to put it away. We don’t know if it’s actually dangerous, the source of its power, or where it really came from.”

“What if I told you that I do know? I know something about that wand that you don’t.”

“Then I’d call you a liar. And if you’re not lying, then I’m going to be pretty pissed that you’ve been keeping something like that from me.”

“Well, I have been keeping something from you, and it hasn’t been easy for me to keep it secret. There were moments when I wanted to tell you the truth so badly, but it’s a secret that could ruin us, Kurt, and I don’t want to jeopardize what we have.”

“You’re not helping your case. You need to tell me,” Kurt said. “Tell me now, Blaine.” The last one was an order, a demand laced with a warning.

“There’s no easy way to tell you, and there’s a chance you won’t even believe me.”

“At this point, I think I could believe anything. Try me. Tell me why you’re so reluctant to stop using the wand, tell me what you know about it that I don’t -”

“That wand isn’t magical, and it’s mine.”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’m not human...I’m a djinn, Kurt, and I need that object to stay here,” Blaine said in a deadpan manner, and Kurt stared hard at him before blinking. When Blaine’s expression didn’t waver at all and no ‘just kidding’ or a laugh or an ‘I got you’ followed his statement, Kurt knew this wasn’t some elaborate joke. It was real.

His heart plummeted into his stomach, which churned tumultuously.

“What?!” Kurt took a step back, staring at Blaine, mouth agape.

“I’m a djinn. I’m a magical being...I feed off of your deepest desires, and, with your permission, I grant them, giving you exactly what you wish to see, exactly what you wish to have,” Blaine explained.

He stepped toward Kurt who began to shake his head slowly.

There was no way this was happening, no way this could be real. Kurt was waiting for the punchline, but instead he just felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

“No. There’s no way. You’re Blaine Anderson. You go to Dalton, you sing in a show choir, you’re - you’re real. You’re my - my boyfriend. Oh god, please tell me you’re real, and you’re just playing a joke on me,” Kurt said, his voice shaking. His stomach now felt heavy like a stone inside him.

“I am all of that, Kurt,” Blaine began, concern and a desperate plea in his shining eyes. “Because you want me to be all of that. Everything that I am is everything that you’ve ever desired...a male friend you can relate to, a best friend and confidant, a boyfriend and protector...I’m made for you, Kurt.”

“Oh god.” Kurt covered his mouth and choked back a sob. His mind was reeling as he drew connections between everything that had ever happened between them and what Blaine had just told him. None of it made sense, yet it all made perfect sense. Because everything had been too perfect. Pure, unadulterated, childish fantasy. He should have known life didn’t work like that, nothing ever worked out like that. He felt like he was going to be sick. Then he took a few shaky breaths and collapsed onto his bed again, his legs too weak to support his weight any longer.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m tied to that wand. You can’t get rid of it. If it goes, then so do I, Kurt. If you stop using the wand, the connection between us will be weakened and, eventually, severed. And I’ll fade away,” Blaine finished, his voice cracking. The tears that had been forming in his eyes began to roll down his face.

Kurt was at a loss for words. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs until he was hoarse, but he wanted to cry and hit Blaine as hard as he could, pummel him until his knuckles and hands were sore, just to make Blaine feel the way he felt in that moment, broken, lost, confused, betrayed. Like he was dying.

“I love you, Kurt,” Blaine said softly, cautiously.

His breath hitched, having waited and wanted to hear those words from Blaine’s mouth. But his heart couldn’t take it. He felt like he was being played, and for Blaine to say those words at a moment like this was a low blow, completely unfair, cruel even.

Kurt felt tears of anger burning in his eyes. “No. No, you aren’t doing this to me. You’ve been lying to me. I’m still not even sure if I believe your ridiculous -”

Blaine rushed toward Kurt and wrapped his quaking frame up in his arms, joining him once again on the edge of the bed. “Let me show you,” Blaine spoke softly by Kurt’s ear, and Kurt shivered from the tenderness of his touch, his voice, and the heat of his breath on his skin.

Kurt felt so conflicted.

He couldn’t push him away, he didn’t want to, but a part of him was rejecting Blaine. Instead, he sat there powerless, allowing Blaine to hold him as he wept silently.

Kurt felt a gentle tremor beside him, and he looked up, his vision blurred by tears, to see Blaine holding a single rose which he had seemingly fabricated out of thin air.

“Here. For you, Kurt.”

He laid the flower across Kurt’s lap, and Kurt gazed down at its full, flawless petals, deep, vibrant red color, and verdant, long, thornless stem. It was perfect, unnaturally beautiful. He let out an involuntary whimper and sniffled loudly. Kurt wiped at the moisture on his face, the sweet, romantic gesture cutting into him and augmenting his anguish.

Kurt finally found his voice. “But...why, Blaine? Why would you let me fall in love with you?”

The question hung heavy in the air between them.

“Because we were meant to find each other. Beings like me need to attach themselves to a human to fully exist in this world, and there are some who are more compatible than others. I felt your energy, and I immediately knew. I _knew_ you were the perfect match for me. I’d been looking for you forever, so when I finally found you, I found a way in, and I took it.” Blaine cupped Kurt’s face in his hand and ran his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears that were steadily but silently streaking down it.

Kurt leaned into the warmth of the touch, finding it impossible to believe that someone he had grown so close to, that had felt so alive to him and made him feel so alive, wasn’t - real. Blaine wasn’t a person at all, wasn’t even human, but Kurt knew for certain that he had fallen completely and devastatingly head over heels for him, whatever he was. Nothing had felt so real to him before.

But he couldn’t let it continue. Knowing the damage that had already been done, to others, to his integrity, and now his heart...Kurt had trusted Blaine, but now it seemed like such a foreign concept, something he no longer understood. He felt like there was no down from here, no farther he could fall from this point, and even the comfort Blaine’s presence had brought him felt cheap and dangerous now. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t right.

He had made his decision, and he knew what it meant. Kurt would have to say goodbye.

“Blaine,” Kurt finally spoke after an uneasy silence. “You know that we’ll always belong to each other, right? You’ll always be the one for me - I - I love you...but -”

“But, what, Kurt?” Blaine asked brokenly. “Is there any way I can change your mind?”

Kurt bit his trembling lip and shook his head. “No. I’ve made my decision. I can’t go on like this, not knowing if I might accidentally hurt someone again. I don’t want to take that risk. I don’t want to have to live with myself if the magic ends up harming someone again and possibly resulting in something more severe, something I’ll never be able to forgive myself for.” Kurt shook his head again, finding it difficult to continue, the words catching in his throat. “No, Blaine. I need to put it away. And if it means that this, that us, that we’re...over - I’m so sorry,” he said, breaking down into heavy sobs. “I’m so, so sorry.” Kurt covered his face with his hands.

Blaine gently pulled Kurt’s hands away from his face, bringing them down to rest in Kurt’s lap. He lifted a hand and placed it beneath Kurt’s chin, gingerly nudging it upward to lift his face. Kurt looked up through wet lashes, his bright, blue, mournful eyes meeting Blaine’s, telling him everything he needed to know.

“It’s okay, Kurt. I understand.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips gently but firmly against Kurt’s, kissing him slowly, their lips sliding together, tasting of the salt of their tears. It was too much and not enough, but Kurt relished it, allowed himself to have one last taste of the boy he loved, to feel the love that Blaine poured into him through the damning, Trojan Horse of a kiss.  

When Blaine pulled away, Kurt slowly blinked open his eyes, feeling the absence of the body beside him. He looked up, turning his head toward the being in his peripheral vision, and there was Blaine standing in the center of the room, the same spot in which he had first materialized on that fateful day.

“I won’t make this any harder for you. I’m not going to prolong it.” Blaine took a step backward. “Goodbye, Kurt.”

And in an instant, he was gone.

Kurt sat there on his bed, crying quietly into his hands for a moment more, his body so racked that a numbness crept over him. He lifted his head again, sniffling, and ran his fingers underneath his eyes.

Kurt twisted around on the bed, and he saw the wand sitting there in the center of the mattress. He fetched the box from his top dresser drawer, placed the wand carefully in its home, and then, with one last deep breath and with an overwhelming sense of finality, Kurt buried the box in the back of his closet.


	9. Chapter 9

When Kurt had to tell the story, he said that he and Blaine went their separate ways.

Mercedes, Rachel, the other members of the glee club, and especially his dad, knew not to question him any further.

Kurt had nothing more to tell.

It was weeks before he began to get over his heartbreak and to feel even the least bit whole again. His two best friends were there to comfort him and try to help take his mind off the breakup with girls’ nights, pastries and pizza, movies, and spur of the moment trips to the mall for retail therapy or to the local theater to see a show. And for that - for them - Kurt was incredibly grateful.

As for the truth, he kept it to himself and for himself. The memories he made with Blaine were still precious to him, and he cherished them. Kurt couldn’t deny that he’d had a magical summer, months of firsts and a love he’d always dreamed of. Although it had ended badly, he couldn’t deny that his time spent with Blaine had been special, and he decided to focus on the good as he tried to move on.

The flawless rose that Blaine had conjured up remained on Kurt’s dresser, blooming brilliantly as if suspended in time. As he moved on and was caught up in the tides of life, Kurt didn’t seem to notice it gradually fading. And then, one day, it simply vanished.

Big changes took place in Kurt’s life, changes that swept him up and redirected his energies toward family, friends, and his future and away from the absence of Blaine. The biggest shocker was when his father married Finn Hudson’s mom, Carole. He was apprehensive about the entire situation at first, but Kurt had been growing closer to Finn over the months, and they bonded over glee club and their love-hate, but mostly love, relationship with Rachel. Most of all, it was really nice to have something of a family again, with the addition of a mother and a brother, and Kurt adapted to the new situation with a surprising ease.

Kurt’s schooldays were no longer tainted by fear of physical abuse, and suddenly concentrating on his grades and the demands of glee club became much simpler. Dave Karofsky transferred schools halfway through the year. While things were a lot calmer, Kurt wasn’t completely freed from teasing, but it was a lot milder and was mostly in jest from members of the glee club.

Seasons changed, months rolled by, and Kurt wholeheartedly immersed himself in glee club. Members came and went, but the camaraderie that formed between the individuals in the group made going to that room feel like going to his grandparents’ house used to feel when he was a child. It was sanctuary, it was escape, and it was love.

And in glee club, Kurt was able to hone his skills as a musician and awake his true passion for performing. When it came time to consider college, he and Rachel made a pact that they would go to New York together and never look back. They were made for greatness and would accept nothing less.

But before he could get ahead of himself, Kurt had an important, milestone event to attend, one of his final chances to make an impression and leave his mark on McKinley High: his senior prom.

Kurt pulled back the curtain partition, beaming and striking a pose.

He opened his arms wide. “What do you think?”

“Oh my god, Kurt! You look fabulous, like, Pharrell-meets-Timberlake fabulous!” Mercedes said.

“Why thank you, dear,” Kurt said, strolling out of the dressing room to model his prom ensemble. He turned around in the center of the room to Mercedes’s approving nods and excited noises, and she applauded before rising from the bench and reaching out to take Kurt’s hands.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to be my date, Kurt. You know it means so much to me,” she said.

“Aw, Mercedes,” Kurt cooed. “It is truly my honor to take you to senior prom. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides,” he added, “no one else is even remotely worthy of showing up on the arm of one Kurt Hummel.” He winked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt could have sworn he saw a flash of hazel in the three-panel mirror to his left. He turned quickly, but he was met with only his reflection looking back at him.

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Mercedes joked back. “But, let’s be honest. It’s not like there are guys lined up to ask me on a date or anything.”

“You know and I know that there are plenty of guys out there who would kill for a chance to be with Mercedes Jones, but I’m the lucky one who gets to. They must all be too stupid to realize it yet.”

“Yeah. If only you weren’t gay,” she teased, but Kurt could tell there was some truth in the joke.

“If only,” Kurt said, gazing at his best friend with considerable admiration. “Well, let me get out of this so we can get out of here.” He walked back toward the dressing room.

“Kurt?” Kurt turned back around, tilting his head questioningly to the side. “Breadstix after this?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ve worked up an appetite figuring out all this prom stuff. Let me just say how glad I am that you found the perfect dress. It really is going to be a great night,” he added.

“Yeah,” Mercedes said. “I think so too.” 

-s-

Arm in arm, Kurt led Mercedes down the walk from her doorstep and then opened up the door for her of the blue ‘67 Mustang his father had somehow gotten his hands on for the occasion.

“You are a regular Prince Charming,” she said, climbing in. Mercedes looked around the car, running her hands over the dashboard and the upholstery. “And your dad has some seriously sick connections. I’ll never understand it.”

“I guess everyone has their secrets. He’s like a fairy godmother when it comes to cars,” Kurt said as he walked around to the driver’s side to get in. “Only he’s my dad and very far from fairy.”

Mercedes laughed her infectious laugh, prompting a wide grin and a chuckle from Kurt.

Kurt placed his hand on the wheel, the key poised by the ignition. He turned his head toward the passenger seat, more serious now. “You look beautiful, Mercedes.”

“Thank you,” she said, bashful under his gaze.

“Let Quinn or Santana or whoever have their fifteen minutes of fame, but you, my dear, are undeniably the queen.” He started the car, the engine roaring to life, and they felt it rumble beneath them.

Mercedes smiled, and there was a certain twinkle in her eye. “Let’s go make those haters and everyone at that prom jealous. When we walk in, they won’t know what hit them. We’ll blind them with our fabulousness.”

They broke into laughter as Kurt pulled the car onto the road to begin a night that would surely be nothing short of magical, a night where they would make memories to last a lifetime as they moved swiftly, graciously toward the conclusion of their high school years. 

-s-

Kurt grimaced. “This punch is terrible. What is that taste -?”

“Oh man, Kurt. You should not have drank that,” Puck said, appearing out of nowhere and reaching over to take his cup away from him. Mercedes made a sour face at Puck as he tossed the plastic cup in the waste can by the refreshment table and then disappeared into the crowd again.

“What just happened?”

“I don’t know, Kurt. I really don’t know.”

The gym was almost unrecognizable. Brittany had really outdone herself with the dinosaur theme. The music was pumping loudly through giant, egg-shaped speakers, and when the song changed, Kurt perked up and looked wide-eyed at Mercedes, bouncing in his excitement. “We have to dance to this! C’mon!” He grabbed her hand and tugged her along toward the center of the gym where bodies were bobbing and swaying to the rhythm.

As they danced, Kurt noticed that they had an audience, an audience of one. But the handsome, blonde-haired boy with the model body whom they both knew well wasn’t interested in Kurt. Their fellow glee club member, Sam Evans, looked on with longingly at Kurt’s best friend and date as if Mercedes was the only woman in the room.

He moved in closer to Mercedes as they continued to dance. “I think you have an admirer,” Kurt said by her ear.

“Huh?”

He nodded his head in Sam’s direction, attempting to be subtle. Mercedes turned her head until she caught sight of Sam who, having been caught, shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and averted his gaze. Mercedes giggled, looking down at the floor.

“That boy has no game,” she said, shaking her head. “I never know if he likes me or if he’s just staring at me. He is cute though,” she admitted.

“He definitely likes you, and, very cute. Why don’t you give him a chance?” When Sam first arrived at their school, he had given off a certain vibe, and Kurt had developed a minor crush, but it soon became apparent that Sam was in fact straight and very much enamored with his best friend.

“I don’t know,” she began.

“Go ask him to dance,” Kurt said.

“But, Kurt -”

“No buts.” He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, pointing her in the direction of the spot where Sam was standing. “Go dance with that boy.” And he sent her off with a gentle nudge.

He watched proudly as Sam’s face lit up and went full flush when Mercedes approached him. She pulled the obviously smitten boy off to dance, and Kurt crossed his arms and hummed approvingly to himself. He was happy for her; overall, Sam was a nice kid.

But now that he had lost his dance partner, Kurt didn’t feel much like dancing on his own, so he scanned the sea of people until he spotted Rachel and Finn over in a corner.

“Hey, lovebirds,” he greeted them. “Did you see the man candy on Mercedes’s arm?”

Rachel turned and smirked. “How could we not see you two when you came in. I don’t think anyone missed you.”

“What can I say? I know how to make an entrance. But I wasn’t talking about me. Look over there.” He pointed toward the couple.

“Oh, Kurt! They’re so cute together,” Rachel squealed.

“It’s about time,” Finn said. “Sam never shuts up about her. He’s like a lost, whiny, pining puppy whenever she sings in glee club.”

Kurt snickered. “Well then I think Sam owes me. All jokes aside, they do look really happy.”

“It’s nice to see our friends finding love,” Rachel said. Kurt was quiet for a moment, lost in a bout of melancholy. “I’m sorry, Kurt,” she said quietly, but he just shook his head and held his hand up to say it was okay. And then he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The music changed again to a song with a good beat by one of Kurt’s favorite artists, and it lifted him back up.

“Can I have this dance, Miss Rachel Berry?” Kurt asked, extending his hand to her.

“Why of course.” She giggled. “Sorry, Finn!” she shot back over her shoulder as they rushed off together, and Finn just shrugged and mouthed “have fun”.

“Sorry to steal you away, but Finn will forgive me. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow with his favorite breakfast, during which he better not relay the details of your post-prom activities.”

“ _Kurt_.” Rachel’s jaw dropped, and she swatted his arm playfully. “Actually, he’s been too embarrassed to dance for most of the night anyway, which is completely baffling considering how he helped lead us all the way to Nationals,” she said.

“Ah, yes. Finn Hudson the enigma. Bully-turned-sweetheart, quarterback of the football team, and leading man in the glee club who leads with two left feet,” Kurt said.

“I love him though,” Rachel said, wrapping her arms around Kurt’s neck, rising up on her tippy toes.

“I know. I love the big lug too.”

Someone grabbed Kurt’s arm, startling him, and he whipped around to see Mercedes beaming at him, Sam at her side.

“If you’re coming to steal your date back, then I’m sorry. Finders keepers,” Rachel joked, pulling Kurt in closer to her.

“Actually, I was coming over to dance with all of you. The more the merrier, right?” Mercedes said.

“Always,” Rachel said.

Kurt sighed. “This is it, guys. When prom is over, all that’s left is Nationals and graduation. Let’s make the most of it.”

“We’re gonna go out in a blaze of glory,” Mercedes said.

“But not really in flames of any sort, right?” Sam said, appearing wary.

“Glory, yes. But, no. No flames. We are going to go to that competition and earn our rightful victory, the one we’ve been working so hard towards,” Rachel said, puffing out her chest. “This is our year.”

“And that’s why I love her,” Finn said, walking up behind Rachel and wrapping his arms around her. “Always so positive. She knows she’s special,” he murmured, looking down at her. She smiled up at him as she leaned into his body and embrace.

After a few more songs, the music faded out, and everyone turned their attention to the stage, stretching their necks to see over the crowd what was going on. The microphone came on with a squealing feedback that quickly died away, and Santana tapped on it before she and Quinn began to address the room.

“They must be announcing the prom king and queen now,” Rachel said.

Kurt looked toward Mercedes, remembering what he had told her earlier, and he’d meant it. All that was important now were his friends, and he couldn’t care less about those stupid titles voted on by his peers. He tuned out the announcement but applauded with the rest of them as Quinn Fabray was crowned. He watched as one of her biggest dreams came true, and he thought about all the wonderful people in his own life and how, thanks to his hard work, determination, and the bonds he formed with the people who surrounded him on a day-to-day basis, his own dreams were about to come to fruition as well.


	10. Chapter 10

When Kurt turned nineteen, he still didn’t feel like he had truly grown up. He was a legal adult now, yes, and he felt a bit tired and a bit wiser with age, but his nineteenth birthday was overshadowed by the excitement surrounding the close of his senior year of high school, graduation, and what was to come next.

His acceptance letter from NYADA had arrived in the mail the previous month, and Kurt couldn’t believe that within only a few short months he would be leaving his dad behind in Ohio and taking on New York. It was all he had ever dreamed of, all he could have ever wished for, and he was overjoyed, but at the same time, frightened.

But he didn’t have to do it alone. After both were accepted, Kurt and Rachel had decided to get an apartment together in the city. With the help of their parents, they scouted out places and eventually found something reasonable, though the location was less than favorable. It didn’t matter much to Kurt; the thrill and splendor of living in the city far outweighed the unpleasant aspects of their situation.

When August rolled around and Kurt finally finished packing and organizing his belongings, he hopped in his car, cranked the air all the way up, and was off to pick up Rachel and Mercedes for one last visit to the Lima Bean. They’d planned to meet there for old time’s sake and to say their final goodbyes before they parted ways and ventured out into the real world.

Kurt ordered his usual, a grande nonfat mocha, Rachel ordered her tea, and Mercedes grabbed a slice of cheesecake before they settled into their usual table over by the window.

“I can’t believe it...” Rachel said, staring unseeingly into the warm, dark amber liquid in the cup clasped between her hands.

The coffee shop was as busy and noisy as ever, but there was a strange stillness in the air, and a feeling of emptiness about the place. Kurt knew what it was, but he refused to allow his eyes to drift over to the corner table.

“We’re going to keep in touch, Mercedes. I promise,” Kurt said. Rachel sniffled loudly.

“Oh no, please don’t cry, Rachel,” Mercedes said.

“But I can’t help it. We did it, guys. We won Nationals, everyone grew so close, like a family. And now that we graduated, we’re...now we’re off to New York City,” she sobbed out, picking up her napkin to noisily blow her nose into it. “It’s really happening. Everyone’s going off in different directions.”

“I guess you could say we had the perfect senior year,” Kurt said, feeling a bit sentimental himself. He reached out to lay a comforting hand on Rachel’s arm, and she placed her other hand on top of his.

“I’m going to miss everyone so much,” Rachel said, taking another napkin offered to her by Mercedes.

“I promise we’ll see everyone again, Rach. We’ll be back for holidays and summer break. It’ll be okay,” Kurt assured her.

“You know what? You’re right, Kurt,” Rachel said with another sniffle, and then she found it possible to smile.

“I know. But, honey,” he began. “If we’re going to be living in New York, you’re gonna need a new wardrobe.”

Rachel looked at him through wet eyelashes and then laughed through her tears, wiping them away with her hand as her body shook. “A makeover doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. We’re going to have so many new experiences as we morph into sophisticated New Yorkers, it only seems right to fit the part.”

“Aw, guys,” Mercedes said. “You mean I’m going to miss it when you burn those hideous animal sweaters?” Kurt and Mercedes high-fived across the table.

“You’re awful, but I love you,” Rachel said, addressing the two of them, and then she let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“And although you’re moving away, you’re not getting away from us so easily, Rachel Berry. Not now, not ever,” Mercedes said. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of you in the future.”

“Look out, world, no stage or screen is safe,” Kurt said with an affectionate grin. 

-s-

Kurt struggled carrying boxes and furniture up the stairs to their new Bushwick studio apartment. He’d been hoping that Rachel would be of assistance, but she seemed to have more pressing business to attend. Instead, she sat on her phone outside on the front walk conversing with her dads while he single-handedly moved them into their new abode, the place they would call home for at least the next four years.

It wasn’t so bad, being able to begin sorting through things and unpacking without Rachel in his hair. Admittedly, Kurt preferred it this way, working alone. It was peaceful.

Kurt’s phone buzzed against his thigh, and he rose from where he was hunched over a box and pulled it out to check it.

**_so sorry, Kurt! I ran down to the corner to pick up dinner for us. be back soon! xo_ **

She would do that, Kurt thought, and he shook his head and laughed to himself. But with nothing else to occupy him until she returned with food, Kurt figured he'd begin situating himself. First thing was first: he’d begin to unpack his wardrobe and organize it in the chest of drawers they’d picked up earlier from a flea market in the city.

He crouched down and pulled up the flaps of a box that was filled with smaller boxes of shoes and boots. As Kurt sorted through them, he came across a box that was nothing like the others and much too small to contain a pair of shoes for a grown man. Something about it sparked his memory, and he ran his fingers across the edge of the long, thin box.

He picked it up and held it in his hands before him.

“Where did this come from?” Kurt wondered. He didn’t remember packing it, and he was sure he hadn’t seen the thing in years.

He shifted around to sit cross-legged on the floor, placing the box in his lap. His stomach a mess of nerves, Kurt lifted the lid off the box and wrapped his fingers around the smooth, hard handle of the toy wand. He tightened his grip around it, remembering how it felt to hold it as he was hit with an onslaught of flashes of the past, rushing back to him seemingly through the object itself. His pulse quickened, and he felt something like electricity enter his hand through the wand and shoot through his body.

With a soft grunt, Kurt pushed himself up from the floor and rose slowly to his feet, not taking his eyes off the wand in his hand, and then pivoted partway around, just feeling the slight weight of the object in his hand.

A pair of feet caught his eye and stilled him, and he lifted his head, his eyes widening at the person standing before him. It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of his lungs.

“Kurt,” Blaine said weakly.

Kurt looked into his round, shining, hazel eyes, eyes he hadn’t realized how much he missed. He stared at Blaine, no longer a boy but the form of a man, taking in everything that was once the friend and lover he had left behind. Vivid memories flooded back to him, and he tried hard not to cry when he realized how much all of him ached for Blaine these past few years. Though he’d found ways to move past what had happened and to be happy without him, there had been a void inside him that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.

He took a step forward.

Kurt rushed toward Blaine and threw his arms around his shoulders, drawing him in against his body. He breathed in, hot tears now escaping and streaming down his face. Blaine still felt the same in his arms, so solid, still smelled the same, still looked as handsome as he remembered only more refined...

“You called me back,” Blaine said.

“Yeah.” Kurt’s voice was muffled against Blaine’s shoulder. He lifted his head. “Yeah,” he breathed.

Blaine ran his hand up and down Kurt’s back and then rubbed soothing circles by his shoulder blades. He brought his lips to Kurt’s ear and whispered, “I thought you’d never want to see me again...not after what I did to you. You didn’t find someone else?”

Kurt shook his head. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. It might sound pathetic, and it might be silly, but, even after years have passed, my feelings for you remain the same. I just didn’t realize it, didn’t allow myself to accept it...until now.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. We can’t go back and change what happened between us, and I'm okay with that. Because I loved you...I still love you. And I’ve grown, learned so much...I’m not a foolish child anymore. It took some time, but I figured out that it was mostly a matter of learning to trust myself while I was in your presence, trust myself to do what’s right for me, and I do, now.”

“I’m forever yours, Kurt. You have all the love I can give. I hope you know that.”

“I think I do.” Kurt swallowed, wiping at his face with his wrist. “Rachel’s going to be back soon. And you can’t be here when she returns.”

“I understand.”

“But I,” Kurt hesitated, “I’d like to see you again. Soon.”

“Okay.”

Kurt placed his finger beneath Blaine’s chin, gently tilting Blaine’s head upward, and closed the gap between them, pressing a series of tender kisses to his lips. It still felt the same. Kurt’s heart swelled with every consecutive kiss, and he felt like his body was alight and every nerve ending was firing, telling his brain to hold on just a little longer.

Kurt breathed in a shaky breath as he pulled away. “This - this right here is a promise. It isn’t over between us. But, for now, I have to say goodbye again.”

Blaine nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait for you. When you’re ready.”

He pulled away from Kurt’s embrace, creating distance between them.

“Goodbye, Blaine,” Kurt said with a certain finality, though he knew it wasn’t for good.

“Goodbye...Kurt.”

And then Blaine vanished. 


End file.
